Cookies and Milk
by Totally-Out-Of-It
Summary: slash Scipio/Prosper. Prosper and Bo live in Casa Massimo. Prosper wanted the best for Bo, and Prosper was in love with Scipio. Scipio wondered if it was okay to even have such feelings. Dottore Massimo was determined to make them grow up... and apart.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This is an idea i've been playing with for a long time. I'm worried I'll want to go back and change stuff later on, but I'm posting it now anyway... cause I told someone I would post the first chp by the beginning of February.... well we all see how well that worked out. lol.

**_Attention All Artists_**: If you're an artist and wish to draw pictures (doujin/fancomic included) of this or any other story I've written, you have my permission to do so on the condition that I get credit for the idea and you send it to me (links please, no file attachments).

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Chapter 1

"These are the new children you told me about?" a man asked. He was dressed in a fancy looking suit that seemed newly cleaned right down to the little gold buttons on his cuffs.

"Yes. Their mother disappeared and left them on their own, you see. She was their last remaining family. Their aunt was originally supposed to take them. However she died of a heart attack shortly after the disappearance," a woman explained, patting the older of two kids on the head. He hardly responded.

The man walked to stand in front of the children but didn't touch them. He looked them over in a scrutinizing manner. You'd almost think he was trying to buy a pedigree pet or something. He examined them as well as he could without actually touching them, including taking a whiff of them... in what he must have assumed was a discreet way. The younger of the kids shied away from him.

"Well then... How old are they?" he asked, not taking his eyes off the new children.

"The older one is nearly 9. His little brother just turned 3," the woman explained in a happy tone. She obviously thought the 3 year old was cute. This man obviously did not.

"Almost 9? Hm.. That's my son's age... Names?" he asked, this time addressing the children directly. The older one clenched his fist behind his back and made sure he didn't let this guy know how much he disliked being treated like pond scum.

"Prosper," he said. The little one just stared up at the man and said nothing.

"Name," the man asked again, a little rougher this time. The three year old shivered.

"Bo," Prosper answered for him. "His name is Bo, but he gets real nervous when strangers talk to him and forgets it."

The man looked at the orphanage woman curiously. She laughed a little and nodded.

"Prosper and Boniface," she explained. "Though… they both seem to prefer Bo." Again, she seemed happy about it. The man sniffed.

"Probably because it's easier for the inept child to remember," he muttered under his breath. Prosper grit his teeth.

"What a foul man," Prosper couldn't help himself. He didn't give a rat's ass if this man wanted to adopt them or not anymore! He was horrible! He turned his cute face to the woman standing to the side. "Tell me I don't have to live with him, Sister, please."

Suddenly, hands were on his shoulders. It was the first time the rich man had touched him since meeting him, and it shocked Prosper to no end. His eyes were wide as he was shaken a little. It wasn't enough to be considered a threat, however, and the sister didn't move to step in. Bo squeaked and hid further behind Prosper.

"Listen, child... I'm here to adopt you into a nicer family than you'd ever find anywhere. You should smile and accept it," the man spoke, and Prosper could hear that the kindness in his voice was forced.

"Family?" Bo squeaked. Prosper saw the man flinch at Bo's high pitched baby voice.

"Yes," he said, smiling at Bo and fixing Prosper's jacket as if that had been his reason for grabbing the child in the first place. "I have a few other orphans living at my mansion, and I have a son as well. He's about the age of your brother. So you won't be lonely. See?"

"Y-Yeah," Bo nodded, slipping his tiny hand into Prosper's. Prosper held it tightly and stared forward at the horrible rich man as he was released.

"So you will definitely adopt them, Mr. Massimo?" the sister asked in a joyous tone. "I thought you would. You always said you wanted to adopt siblings."

"Yes," and the man had a brilliant smile on his dirty, lying face. Prosper glared at him while the man wasn't looking. "I always hated to think of siblings being split up in orphanages. I can't imagine what life would have been like without my own older brother."

"Prop... Prop," Bo tugged on Prosper's hand, his voice a soft whisper. Prosper dropped his glare and looked down at his brother. "You is squeezing my hand to tight," Bo whined. Prosper loosened his fingers quickly.

"Sorry," he apologized. Bo rested his face against Prosper's hand.

"It's alright," he replied in the adorable way only a three year old could do.

Mr. Massimo and the sister were talking, but Prosper wasn't listening. He felt like he was being sold into slavery with no choice in the matter. He wanted to go home... to his mother, but he was old enough to understand that it wasn't possible. All he could do now was stay with Bo and protect him... to give him a good life. Judging from the man's clothes and personality, he must be rich. Money... yes, Bo needed a family with enough money to support him. This man obviously had too much money on him or he wouldn't adopt orphans like puppies. On second thought, even pets were loved to some extent. This man was adopting _ferns _for all he seemed to care.

"Okay. Time to go. You know how to bill it, Sister," Mr. Massimo said. He nodded his goodbye to the sister as he ushered the two children to the door.

He walked so fast that Bo was having trouble keeping up. Prosper paused momentarily to lift Bo into his arms. Mr. Massimo walked so fast that even Prosper had to half run to catch up for his short break. In front of the orphanage was a sleek looking black Ferrari. Mr. Massimo pointed Prosper toward the back seat as he slid into the driver's seat. Prosper understood the motion. They weren't respected enough to be allowed in the front seat of the car.

"I'm only going to say this once, so remember it," Mr. Massimo ordered. He turned around in his seat to look the two children right in the eyes. Prosper heard the door lock click. Mr. Massimo's voice was harsh, his eyes angry. "I expect order and obedience. In my house, the rules are strict and you are to obey them all. I'll let the other children and maids explain most of the rules to you, but let me make this clear. Rule number 1: You _never _speak ill of me in front of people or ignore a direct order from me! Do you understand? I'll have you shipped off to a military boarding school faster than you can blink."

"Yes sir," Prosper replied. He swallowed heavily. Bo was shaking so fiercely beside him that he barely managed to nod. Mr. Massimo didn't change his expression at all while he turned forward and started the car.

Prosper wondered if this house was really the best place for Bo after all. This man seemed almost abusive. No. If he laid even one finger on Bo, Prosper would kill him. He didn't care what the authorities would do to him afterward... He'd kill him.

"Now, look presentable. You're about to meet the family," Mr. Massimo ordered.

Prosper was about to ask where Mr. Massimo even saw a house when a large white mansion began to grow in the distance. They were driving down a long paved road surrounded by two large fields on either side. A white fence ran down the length of the drive and bushes were planted every 10 feet along the fence right at the posts. Prosper would have said the drive was ruined by the pavement in the center, but he didn't want to chance getting thrown out of his new home before ever getting inside it. Mr. Massimo probably didn't want dirt on his precious car or something stupid like that.

The car came to a silent standstill, but Prosper could still feel the engine running. Mr. Massimo stepped out of the car and a man dressed in a plain suit and wearing a weird hat slipped into the seat. The door by Prosper opened up and a smiling maid ushered him out. Prosper stepped out and then pulled Bo straight into his arms. Bo didn't seem to mind. He cuddled into Prosper's chest.

They walked up five beige steps, being swept even as they ascended them, to a pair of pure black doors. They looked like they could be made of ink, or perhaps pure onyx. Even the handles were black, trimmed in gold - or perhaps it was gold plated. Prosper couldn't even imagine spending so much money on a door to have it be made out of onyx and lined in pure gold.

The maid who'd opened the car door also opened this door. She walked in and stood back to keep the door open as Mr. Massimo and the children entered. Bo gasped. Prosper's eyes widened and his jaw dropped.

The entrance hall was large and sparkling. They could see their reflections in the floor, which appeared to be granite. Three statues stood perfectly spaced around the room, all made of white marble. All three were seahorses, and they were all undercover fountains. Water was sprayed out of the seahorse mouths down into the base of the statues. The statues faced the center of the room, drawing attention to it, though nothing was in it. Well, nothing that would be there permanently.

Right now, Prosper counted 10 maids, 5 butlers, and 4 children. Mr. Massimo walked only a few feet in front of them, making sure to introduce everyone. He only left enough time between introductions on the staff for the person being introduced to say a short 'hello'. Prosper forgot most of the names instantly because of how fast they were going, though he thought one of the maids was named Leah and maybe one of the guys was something like Jonathan. Mr. Massimo only slowed down when he got to the children.

"This is Caterina," he introduced, motioning to a tall, skinny girl with brown hair down to her butt. She looked about 7. He stopped to scrutinize her for a moment. "I thought I mentioned something about the length of your hair. Do something about it soon, girl."

"Of course," she nodded, but Prosper saw the glint in her eyes that said she wouldn't. He smiled at her and held a hand out for her around Bo.

"Hi. I like your hair," he complimented. Her returned smile was a little hesitant. She glanced at Mr. Massimo before she softly replied with a 'thank you'. Prosper cast a short glare at the back of his new 'father'. After almost a whole minute, the introductions continued and everyone in the room seemed to relax.

"The little one is Riccio. Next time, remember to comb properly... I swear...," Mr. Massimo shook his head and rolled his eyes. Riccio's hair spiked in odd angles, and it appeared to be naturally designed that way. He must have been 6 tops. Prosper purposely stopped to poke Riccio's hair and laugh with him about it under their breaths. The staff and children were beginning to notice Prosper was doing this out of spite for Mr. Massimo as well as a general want to do so.

"The tallest one is Mosca. Well done, lad. At least _you _seem to be in order," Mr. Massimo complimented dryly. Mosca was definitely the tallest, but they were all too young to have had any growth spurt yet so it was really too early to tell. His height made him look almost 10, but he was probably Prosper's age, 8.

Prosper could find nothing to do to get on Massimo's nerves, so he just shook Mosca's hand and muttered a hello. Bo had given everyone a cute stare which they all took as a hello but had yet to say a word. Caterina wondered if Bo had learned to speak yet.

"And finally, my son, at the _wrong _end of the line... This is Scipio," Mr. Massimo introduced, standing behind his son at the end of the line. Scipio was the only child who seemed worried about the father's warning. He stepped forward in an obvious attempt to get away from his father and held his hand out to shake.

All the other children were wearing the cheapest in fine clothing while Scipio was all dazzled up in possibly the finest child's suit Prosper had ever even heard of. Prosper numbly held out his hand to shake. He was shocked by this boy, the only one older than him. Mr. Massimo had said his son was 9, but he could pass for 10. Though, maybe only a child could tell the difference. Scipio's hair was combed back perfectly and barely reached his eyes.

"Welcome to the family," Scipio greeted. Behind him, his father rolled his eyes. Prosper heard something like 'just like his mother' muttered under the breath of the man he already hated. He ignored it.

"H-Hi...," Prosper greeted, feeling suddenly like an idiot. The other children had seemed like other children. Scipio almost seemed like a teenager already.

"Hi," a small voice spoke, and the whole room stopped to stare at the body in Prosper's arms. "My name is... is Bo!" the boy greeted happily. Scipio grinned and held his hand out to take Bo's tiny hand in a gentle shake.

"It's nice to meet you. My name is Scipio," he introduced himself.

"I know," Bo replied. Caterina grinned widely. Scipio raised his gaze to meet Prosper's and the new orphan heard the question there.

"I'm Prosper," he said.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"27...28...29...30! Ready or not, here I come!" Prosper called out across the house. Whether or not they heard him counting wasn't important. If the other children weren't hidden by now, it was their own faults.

Yes. They were playing hide and seek, and Prosper was it. It made no sense really. Prosper shouldn't have to be it, but Hornet said today was special so he had no choice. Oh. Caterina was Hornet. Despite Massimo Sr. best wishes, she hadn't cut her hair, just tied it up in a braid to make it less noticeable. It looked like a stinger, so they all called her Hornet. 'They' being all the children and half the staff.... but only when Mr. Massimo wasn't around.

Prosper began to wander the house, searching for his small friends. They all knew where not to hide - any place where they might accidentally break something. Mostly, they hid in cubby holes, storage compartments or rooms, or in the servant work areas or living quarters. This still left a lot of places for them to hide at. It was a huge house.

Prosper turned a corner and saw a long hallway. If he walked down this hall, he'd make it to the kitchen where he could probably find Bo hiding behind the fridge in that small space. Hornet was probably hiding in the laundry room even though the maids would tell him otherwise. He'd leave them alone since they were the easiest to find for him.

He turned to walk to the other side of the house to search for Riccio, Mosca, and Scipio. He'd only taken a few steps before arms grabbed him and pulled him off course. He was shoved against a nearby wall by bigger, stronger hands. Prosper gasped as he saw who it was, then his mind caught up and he let out a breath of relief.

"Jesus, Scip. I thought you were your father," he stated, the relief extremely evident in his voice.

"Now that's a little insulting, Prop. I thought you'd be able to tell the difference easily," Scipio replied with mock hurt in his voice. The hands released Prosper as Scipio backed away to the opposite wall.

Scipio was right. Prosper should have known instantly that it wasn't the high and mighty, much, much taller and rougher Massimo senior. They never even considered playing games like this while he was around. The only reason they played games now was because Mr. Massimo was out on a business trip. If he were home, he would never allow such a rumpus in his house.

"Scipio, you know the point of hide and seek is to _hide _while I _seek_," Prosper reminded. "Why aren't you hiding?"

"Well I wanted to give you your birthday gift," Scipio offered up like a weak excuse.

"Liar. You could give me my present at dinner like everyone else," Prosper accused.

Scipio stared off down the hall for a moment. Then he took two steps toward Prosper, locking their gazes with a smoldering look. Prosper's breath caught in his throat, and he could only stare. Then something was pressed into his chest.

"Happy 15th birthday," Scipio murmured. "Hide them well. These are just for you."

Prosper held onto the small square in his chest before he even looked down. Scipio's eyes were hard to look away from. When he felt the pressure from Scipio's fingers leave the gift, Prosper looked down. He pulled the present away from his body and smiled. They were Oreos.

"Wherever will I hide them? One of the children will find it no doubt," Prosper laughed.

"Oh really? Somehow, I think you've already decided on a hiding place," Scipio said with a smirk and a slightly raised eyebrow.

"Maybe... Now go hide or I'll start yelling that I found you," Prosper threatened, a teasing look in his eyes and lacing his smile.

"Aye aye," Scipio chuckled under his breath and hurried off.

Prosper watched Scipio for a moment before hurrying down to the kitchens. He glanced around for his friends, purposely avoiding the fridge. No one was here unless Bo was behind the fridge. He quickly ran up to the head cook.

"Excuse me," he greeted with a smile.

"Morning, Prosper. Happy birthday. I'm almost done with your cake," she said with a wide smile.

"Thank you," Prosper nodded. "Can I have a small favor?"

"Anything, sweetheart," she agreed, bending over a little to meet his height. Prosper leaned forward and began to whisper in her ear. He wanted her to put his birthday Oreos in a place where none of the others would look for them. With a conspiring smile, the older woman smiled and took the Oreos from the oldest of the orphans.

"Thanks so much," Prosper said, nodding to her before hurrying out of the kitchen. He avoided the fridge because he knew how hard it was for Bo to be it still. Bo would argue that he was perfectly fine with being it, but since Prosper avoided finding him and no one else knew he almost always hid behind the fridge, the boy had hardly any experience at being the seeker.

Prosper popped down into the cellar for a quick look around. It wasn't safe to be down there for too long. One wrong move and the wine stored down here could come crashing down, as well as the fact that you could catch pneumonia. He thought he saw someone move in the back corner, but when he looked closer, he saw nothing.

Prosper backed up toward the door to the cellar, keeping his eyes on the back corner and aware of the rest of the dim, damp area. Prosper reached one hand back and grabbed the cellar's handle. He shoved it up, the hinges creaking horribly. Then he dropped it back with a loud clang that echoed through to the smallest cracks in the walls.

For a moment, nothing moved. Prosper was beginning to think he really had imagined the movement. Then there was a scuffling noise, and someone sneezed. Prosper grinned. He took slow, careful steps toward where he could see someone's shirt over a row of wine bottles. It was Riccio, he knew. Riccio could be a bit jumpy, so he shouldn't startle him too badly.

"Riccio, I see you!" Prosper called out. Riccio stiffened.

"Liar," he called back before covering his mouth. "Dang it!" he hissed.

"You're it. Let's go," Prosper laughed, walking swiftly back to the door. He held it open for Riccio and then shut it as quietly as he could. He couldn't stop the creaking, but the sound of it shutting was reduced to a mere click... like a normal door.

Prosper turned back to Riccio and gasped, covering his nose.

"God, Riccio! You stink! Better get a shower before you drag that all over the house," he warned. Riccio's eyes widened.

"It wouldn't last that long, do you think?" he asked, voice hushed and worried. Mr. Massimo wasn't due home for another two days!

"You never know," Prosper replied. Riccio jumped and quickly scrambled off to the bathroom.

So much for hide and seek. Prosper laughed. Whatever. He'd just go find someone else.

– – – – – –

As one ascended the finely polished, ice cold, perfectly pearl colored stairs, they would notice that this was a house that demanded respect and perfection. No spot was left scuffed or marked in any way. In fact, shoes were not permitted in the house less they be personalized slippers or house shoes with soft soles. This even applied to the maids, who were only allowed to wear other kinds of shoes when dealing with chemicals that could potentially ruin fabric in general. Bare feet weren't allowed in the house unless you were walking from the bathroom to your bedroom, and even then you should probably have thought ahead and brought your slippers.

Perfect. Pristine.

The hallway at the top of the stairs was tiled similarly to the entryway, as was most of the house, but had a long, plush, red carpet running straight down the center. It left a margin of a half foot on either side of it where you could still see the tiles. If you got to the top of the stairs and walked to the left, you had three doors to choose from. At the end of the hall, there was Scipio's bedroom, filled with books, fine furniture, three air fresheners, a queen size bed, half a wall of mirrors, and the newest computer available. It was connected to a large bathroom that was mediocre compared to his father's. The bathroom could not be seen from the hallway and was only accessible from Scipio's room.

The other two doors on this end of the hallway led to a small library that didn't compare to the main library on the east side of the house on the first floor. Still, it had a wide selection, more than you would probably find in an everyday bookstore. The other door led to a room half the size of Scipio's that was used as a classroom for the private tutors that came to the house.

If you happened to turn right, you'd see three more doors. The first two doors were directly across from each other. The third door was at the very end of the hall. The first two doors housed the orphans. All the boys slept in one room, the one that would be on your left, and Hornet slept in the door on the right. Sometimes Bo would sneak over to keep her company, but they would never let Mr. Massimo know that. The last door in the hall was the large bathroom they all shared. It was second in size only to the master bathroom and was only granted to the orphans because of their numbers. Hornet was the only one who seemed to mind sharing a bathroom with boys. She was going through puberty just like the rest of them, of course, so she got embarrassed once a month.

Bo was the only one exempt from puberty. Prosper was doing his best to hide it, but he and Scipio had it the worst. Scipio's voice was almost done changing, but Prosper's still squeaked from time to time when he got too emotional.

"Hey Prop, we're going out to play with Loki," Riccio called, poking his head into the bedroom.

"Alright. I'll be out in a second," Prosper said, nodding. He looked from an open book on his desk to where he was writing down an answer in his notebook. "I'm almost done."

"You study too much and you're brain is gonna explode! Then we'll all have to chip in to clean up the mess before Scipio's dad sees it!" Riccio half teased and half whined.

"He's your dad too, Riccio," Prosper pointed out as he closed his book. "He's all of our dad's."

"Yeah," Riccio sounded upset about it. "But not for real. He's just the guy who looking out for us, right?" Now Riccio was following Prosper out into the hall and down the stairs.

"He takes care of us, feeds us, clothes us, and gets us a proper education. He classifies as the father, Riccio," Prosper said and rolled his eyes.

"Aw man. I always wanted some pro wrestler or someone cool like that to be my dad," Riccio complained.

They fell silent and Prosper just nodded. Riccio _would _care about his 'dad's' profession. For Prosper, Mr. Massimo was almost everything he'd want in a father, especially for Bo. The only thing he wanted from a father that Mr. Massimo didn't give them.... was love. He wanted a father who cared _about _him, not just _for _him. He wanted a dad who might make dinner or at least wonder if he liked it.

Mr. Massimo hadn't changed a bit since he'd adopted them. He was only keeping them and caring for them to make the public believe he had a heart somewhere inside that cold, stone chest of his. He hadn't hid that fact from Prosper at all. In the first few months of living in this house, Prosper had clashed so much with Mr. Massimo that you could sometimes hear their yelling arguments from the street - and that was saying something when you considered how long the driveway was.

But Massimo Sr. was often away on business excursions and left the children to be cared for by his maids, who were all much nicer than he was - even the mean ones. Prosper put up with the elder Massimo because of Bo. He wanted the best for Bo, and this was it. The best food, the best clothes, the best education, the best friends, but Prosper would be lying if he said that Bo was the only reason. As Prosper and Riccio entered the yard, Prosper saw his other reason for staying.

Scipio.

Yes, Scipio was his other reason for staying. Some people may have told him that you wouldn't or couldn't understand feelings properly until your late teens and early twenties, but Prosper was certain he was feeling something for his older adoptive brother - and it definitely wasn't normal.

"Hey Prosper!" Scipio called, running over with a grin. "Did you finish the math part of our homework?"

"Yeah," Prosper smiled. "Section B was a bit tough, but I can show you how to do it when we go back upstairs."

Out of the corner of his eye, Prosper swore he saw Riccio roll his eyes as he ran off to join the others. Riccio didn't like being around Prosper and Scipio at times like these. Prosper was the smartest kid in the house and Scipio was borderline perfectionist when it came to his studies and grades. That was probably because of his father. Anyway, Scipio would always come talk to Prosper about things he was struggling with and Riccio didn't want to be around if they were just going to talk school.

"Great," and Scipio beamed. Prosper loved that he had the ability to make Scipio smile so brightly. He never thought much about where he could go or what he could do with his brain. He just knew that he was able to see Scipio smile when he used his smarts and they got to spend time together when Scipio didn't understand something as well as Prosper did. Yay brains!

"Scipio! Prop! Hurry up! Who cares about stinky math?! Let's play!" Riccio called out.

"Right!" Scipio called over his shoulder. He locked gazes with Prosper and smiled a normal, thankful smile. "Thanks, Prosper. Really. If it weren't for you, I'm sure my father would have noticed how bad I am at math and science."

"No problem. Anytime," Prosper shook away any praise he was given so it wouldn't give him a big head. Scipio nodded and then they hurried over to Loki, the dog.

Another thing! Scipio called Prosper by his first name more than any of the other orphans and half the staff. Most people called him 'Prop'. Prosper and Bo were the only ones calling Scipio 'Scip', and Prosper only did it when they were the only ones around Scipio, but that was because Scipio told no one else to call him that. No one else knew Prosper still called him Scip, though. Still, why couldn't Scipio just called him Prop like everyone else?

At least Prosper would always be able to pick Scipio out of a crowd of people calling him...right?

As the dog chased the children around the yard and ran after the largest tennis ball Prosper had ever seen, Prosper couldn't help looking at Scipio. The way the older, original son moved was naturally more graceful than any of the orphans - even Hornet, the girl. He was amazing to Prosper. After Bo, Scipio was the most important person in Prosper's life. He'd do almost anything for both of them. He'd do anything to protect them too. Why?

Because that's the kind of person Prosper was. When he loved someone or something so much it hurt... he'd stand up to God to protect them.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The school bell rang out loudly and obnoxiously. The sound of hundreds of feet thundering down the hall to escape the prison called school resounded down even the empty halls of the campus. Several cars were parked on the right side of the main gate to the school, none less expensive than a Ferrari. Car horns beeped and honked and the teenagers on the sidewalk whipped out cell phones and pocket planners. Their streamline blue uniforms made them look all look like a pack of blue tic tacs that had spilled out of the school doors. Friends said goodbye for the day and car doors slammed. Jackets were removed and cars pulled away. People shouted to each other across the campus and out of car windows. One might think these students were never going to see each other again, though Finals had just begun.

Scipio Massimo strolled down a hall where only a few straggling students remained. Those students knew him by name, but he didn't know theirs. Still, he waved when they called to him and adjusted the strap on his arm. You'd think he was the richest boy in school, which was a lie. He was ranked fourth on the scale of wealth - the school had done a survey. Prosper was ranked as the one hundred and twenty second richest. This was because, while he lived with Scipio and was his adopted brother, Prosper was not technically privy to the money of the household. The other orphans in their school were listed in order of age after Prosper.

Scipio let his stride become more relaxed as he found himself alone in the hall. The second to last door at the end of the hall was a classroom he found himself forced to bear for hours every day. Scipio swung into the door just past his, hanging onto the doorframe for support as he did so. From there he could see his goal.

Prosper was sitting in his desk, three rows back and near the window. He was staring out at the school courtyard where the more rambunctious students were starting to pull out cigarettes and pipes. Scipio knocked on the wall and smiled when he saw Prosper jump.

"Hey, Prop! What are you doing? It's time to go home," he pointed out. Prosper nodded.

"Yeah. Sorry. I guess I was distracted," he apologized. "Thanks for coming to get me, though."

Scipio shrugged. "Anytime," he assured the other as he watched Prosper pack up his things. Prosper had a letter in his hands, but he quickly crumpled it up and stuffed it deep in his bag before Scipio even had time to ask about it.

"Come on," Prosper said as he threw his bag over his shoulder and walked to the door. "Father won't like it if we're late."

"Ugh," Scipio groaned, rolling his eyes. They began to walk back down the deserted hallway together, probably the last two in the building. "Don't call him that. It almost makes you sound related."

"Well, he IS my legal guardian, my legal father," Prosper reminded.

"Yeah, but you're nothing like him. If you two were related, you'd be an enigma. I'd have to question your genetics," Scipio teased. Prosper laughed and shoved against Scipio's shoulder.

"If I'd be an enigma, then you're a mutant. You're nothing like your father either," the orphan said. "The only thing tying you two together is your devilishly good looks... and, I must say, he's losing those."

"Ha ha, Prop," Scipio laughed hollowly. "Now you're starting to sound like one of the fangirls."

"You do have quite the extensive fan club," Prosper agreed with a nod and a smile. Scipio rolled his eyes and ruffled Prosper's hair.

"Enough about that. No more calling him 'father' when around me. Besides, he's not even home today. He's gone for three days this time, remember?"

"Oh right. I brought in the mail this morning, because he took the main butler with him. Sorry. I guess all this schooling made me forget," Prosper teased at the end. Scipio laughed and pushed Prosper into the wall, but not so hard as to harm him.

"Hey!" the orphan complained, but he was smiling. He wouldn't trade Scipio for any other person in the world... well... maybe for one...

– – – –

Prosper slammed his hands down on the desk in front of him. He held his head with one hand and sighed out loudly. This couldn't happen. He closed his eyes and laid his hand down over the words in the letter open in front of him. The printed black ink words ripped into him where they shouldn't. He shouldn't be so upset about this. It was just a stupid letter.

The lamp illuminating the desk flickered. It was late, and Prosper should be in bed... but he couldn't sleep. Not now. Outside the nearby window, he could hear crickets. They were soft and would usually help him calm down, but not tonight. Upstairs, all the other children were already asleep. It was after midnight after all. Still, Prosper had wanted to be alone and the downstairs East hall library had seemed to be the best idea. The books helped muffle any noise he made.

Prosper opened his eyes and looked down at the letter again. He pulled his hand away and smoothed out the wrinkled paper.

'_Salutations Signor Massimo,_

_This letter is sent to inform you on the status of family members related to your adopted orphans. We are writing to tell you that Vienna Hartlieb has been located in Hamburg. She is the hereditary mother of Prosper and Boniface, whom you so graciously adopted six years ago. Sadly, I regret to inform you that Senora Hartlieb has passed away some three years ago._

_However, the madam left behind a will with her distant cousin, with whom she was staying. She left something behind for the children. If they are interested, please feel free to bring them down anytime this month. We understand you are a busy man, so please take your time._

_Sister Phoenix of the Merciful Sister's Orphanage'_

There was a curly signature at the bottom written in pen. Prosper ran his fingers over the letter before he dropped his head into both hands to hide his face. She left them when they were so young, but somewhere... Prosper had always believed she would come back again. Despite telling everyone he was happy living in this house, and that Massimo Senior was all he could ask for in a father, a part of him had still hoped for the mother he'd known for nine years to come back for him.

He'd waited six years to hear her call his name again. He'd waited to feel her arms hold him close, and to take in her apologies. Prosper had waited all this time, and now she was gone! Three years ago, she died! Why had it taken so long to find out? Why hadn't this distant cousin tried to contact them?!

Oh, tears. Warm and unwanted, they leaked from his eyes. He tried to wipe them away, but they just smeared over his cheeks. He disliked the wet feeling, but could do nothing about it. Instead, he just let them come and roll down onto the letter. He hoped he was being silent, but someone had heard.

Like the arms he'd wanted to feel from his mother, two long and graceful arms grabbed him from behind the chair, under his arms and around his waist. He didn't have to look to realize who it was.

"Why are you crying, Prop?" Scipio asked in a worry filled whisper. Prosper took a deep, shaky breath and held the letter over his shoulder so Scipio could see it.

"I should have known it would come out this way," he managed to murmur out clearly. "I don't even know why I care about it so much."

"Oh, Prosper. She was your mother," Scipio scolded gently. "Of course you'd care. You're the one who used to tell me such wonderful stories about her. I'd be sad too if I lost someone like that."

"What about Bo?" Prosper whispered out, his tone bordering on harsh in his attempt to talk without sobbing. "I don't want to tell him. He didn't know her very well, but she was his mother too."

In truth, Prosper was more worried about Bo's reaction than he could put into words. He wasn't sure what would tear at his heart more, Bo breaking into tears at the news... or Bo carrying on as though he didn't care because he hadn't known her well. Either one would be painful, but he didn't know which would be worse... so he wouldn't know how to phrase the news anyway.

"That's alright. No one else has to know," Scipio promised him. "This can be our little secret, and if you ever need to talk... you know I'm here for you."

"Yeah," Prosper sniffled and wiped his eyes again. "Thanks, Scip." and though Scipio let Prosper out of the hug, the raven haired boy didn't leave. He picked a nearby chair and quietly read the spines of any book he could see, deciding which sounded more interesting. He continued to do this, no matter how boring it may have been, until Prosper had calmed down, folded up the letter, and placed it in his pocket. Then they left the library together to return to their beds.

The walk was silent for it was too dangerous to talk. If certain servants heard them, there would be hell to pay. At the top of the stairs, where they would need to part ways, Prosper sighed deeply and pulled the letter from his pocket.

"Scip, take this and put it somewhere. Don't get rid of it, just keep it. I don't know where I could hide it that the others wouldn't find it in our room. And... well, everyone stays out of your room generally," he explained, holding it out for the other to take.

"Except you," Scipio corrected teasingly as he picked the letter up by a crinkled corner. "I'll see you tomorrow, Prop, and don't worry. Your letter is safe with me."

Prosper smiled and departed for his room then. Scipio watched him go until he could no longer see the younger teen. Then he slipped silently into his own room. It was dark inside, but he didn't slow as he crossed to his bed. He knew where everything was placed in the room, and he wasn't allowed to have it messy, so there was no chance he'd trip over anything but his own feet.

Scipio slipped the paper in the back of his journal, a place he knew no one looked, and then hid the journal in his bedside table's drawer. This had a lock on it… so it would be even safer. Prosper probably couldn't have given the letter to a better keeper. Scipio held the drawer's key above him as he lay on his bed. This key could very well represent the close bond and friendship between himself and Prosper. Prosper's biggest secret was now locked away in Scipio's room, in a place only Scipio had the key for.

The oldest child held the key tightly in his fist where no one could see it and smiled. He brought his fist down to rest on his chest. Yes. This was a symbol of Prosper's trust and faith in him. He'd keep it safe… forever.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The day already left a foreboding air drifting through the large mansion. None of the electrical lights or shining objects, none of the rich decor or fine art could distract one from the eerily uncomfortable feeling that encompassed the world today.

Well, that is except for Mr. Massimo. As always, the lord of the house was impervious to anything that affected a person's feelings. Prosper was almost certain that the man had no feelings at all in his ever growing age. He cared more about his appearance and business than anything, so it was no surprise that he overlooked the dismal state of the day. Prosper and the other orphans noticed it though. Scipio was not immune to the effects of weather either. He dragged his feet in his plush house shoes as he meandered around in his free time between lunch and lessons.

Prosper had wanted to go see just what was making Scipio look so much like a member of the undead, but Riccio and Hornet kept reeling him in to play boards games or cards. Still, nothing could stop the terrible news that the world was responding to. As the night quickly approached, and dinner was drifting a trail of mouth watering scents through the halls, Prosper finally got his chance to talk to Scipio... alone.

"Hey, Scip! Wait up!" Prosper called as he hurried to catch his crush, who was walking with as much grace as a drunken butterfly.

"Oh... Hey Prosper," Scipio greeted, instantly straightening up into the refined position he'd been brought up to hold and present. This was a dead giveaway that something was wrong. Scipio never acted proper around any of his adoptive brothers... and sister.

"What's up with you today?" Prosper asked. "You've been acting like a zombie, and we're all worried."

"Oh... You guys saw that?" Scipio asked, scratching his cheek sheepishly as he dropped his formal facade.

"It's not like you were doing even a half assed job of hiding it," Prosper pointed out in a slightly sour tone. "So what's goin' on?" Scipio sighed. Another bad sign.

"You're not going to like it," he warned. Prosper smiled a little and placed a hand on Scipio's shoulder.

"Yeah, anything that makes you _this_ depressed definitely loses points with me, Scip," Prosper said. He doubted Scipio knew just how true the statement was and what emotions accompanied it. Still, he said it. Scipio sighed again and looked to the side. He took a deep breath and spoke, still avoiding eye contact with his best friend.

"I'm.... going to a preparatory school in America," He divulged. Prosper's voice caught. His throat seemed too tight to get air through.

"Wh-What?" he forced out. Scipio frowned.

"Father told me this morning. He's sending me to America... to a high class private school," he explained, sounding really upset about it.

"...Just you?" Prosper asked, voice on a normal volume level. Scipio just nodded.

"When?" and now his voice was almost too quiet. "...." Scipio glanced at Prosper and then back down the hall, avoiding eye contact.

"Friday."

"Friday?!" Prosper exclaimed. "Why so soon?" Scipio shrugged. Prosper bit his lip. He decided not to push the issue. Scipio already looked like he wanted to cry, and, if his actions today showed anything, he didn't want to go. Prosper didn't want to make Scipio feel even worse about the situation.

"Um... Which one?" he asked, trying to change the conversation into something more positive. Scipio shrugged again.

"I don't know.... I didn't ask," he admitted in a murmur. Prosper nodded and pat Scipio's back.

"How long?"

"... Three years?" it was almost as if Scipio were trying to gauge Prosper reaction to the span of time. Prosper swallowed heavily. Three years without Scipio. Well... they could write letters, right?

"Well... That's not too long, and when you get back, you'll be an adult and can move out of your father's house," Prosper pointed out, a little smile tugging at his lips. It probably wasn't a convincing grin.

"Prosper, you know I wouldn't leave you and the others here in this house alone," Scipio scolded gently. Prosper grinned wider, truer.

"I was hoping that was the case," he admitted.

Those were the days. In the short days before Scipio's departure... the family, the life they all had lived came crumbling down. In the silent hallways of Massimo Manner, Prosper tossed and turned in his bed. The sun had already risen, but Prosper did not awaken. Bo sat by Prosper for nearly an hour. He watched as his brother grunted and shifted his position a total of 17 times in that short hour. He was about to try and wake Prosper, tell him to come down for breakfast, when a hand held his shoulder. Bo turned his gaze up and saw Scipio was there.

"Hold on a second, little one," he whispered. Then his hand left Bo's shoulder and reached down toward Prosper. He rested his hand gently against Prosper's forehead. Scipio's face turned down in a frown. "Let him sleep, Bo. He has a fever."

"How? Prop's never been sick in his life!" Bo exclaimed.

"Sshh. Don't wake him. He needs the rest," Scipio warned. "Now go eat, or your food will get cold."

"Oh okay," Bo agreed disdainfully. He didn't want to leave his brother when he was ill. It was an unusual occurrence and Prosper... well he might be scared. Right?

"Good boy," Scipio complimented. He smiled and watched Bo. The youngest member of their group was by far the most loved. He was so cute that even the way his padded shoes made soft thudding noises down the hall somehow sounded cuter than the way anyone else's did.

Scipio looked down at the sleeping Prosper and sighed. It was only three more days. Then Scipio would be left at an airport terminal. After that was a long plane ride to ship him off to the Americas and that horrible preparatory school. He bet it had abnormally high cement walls. Perhaps it even had barbed wire fences and bars on the windows. Even if it didn't, it was a prison for Scipio Massimo. How could his father do this to him? Why? Scipio was doing well in school, top of his class. He didn't need a preparatory schooling.

The only true son of the Massimo family reached out toward the sleeping boy's face. He stopped, his hand hovering just over Prosper's skin. He wondered how that would feel... to run his fingers down Prosper's face... to run them through Prosper's curls?

Before he could talk himself out of it, Scipio let his fingertips ghost over the skin, being careful to be gentle so as not to wake him. Scipio's heart beat wildly, especially as Prosper turned his head toward the source of stimulation. Scipio dared to pull back and brush down Prosper's soft skin with his whole finger. He took in a soft but sharp breath. Prosper's lips had parted just enough to let him breathe through his mouth, and he must be dreaming because his eyes seemed to flutter despite being closed. Scipio slowly tested how far he could go.

He set his palm gently against Prosper's jaw, followed by his fingers stretching up Prosper's cheek. Prosper's breathing did not change rhythm, but one breath did falter. Scipio didn't move. His breathing was slow as he waited. The orphan lying before him seemed to still be deep in his dream. Slowly, oh so slowly, Scipio felt himself leaning down over Prosper.

Scipio had never given much thought to relationships, to if he was interested in anyone. He'd never stopped to wonder what it was like to love someone, or even crush on someone. He always ignored girls at school, because he was happy the way he was. He was content with the orphans he called siblings and the life he planned to live after he moved out of his father's house.

Maybe it was his impending move to America for three years that was causing him to think about these things. That was probably the reason for Scipio giving more thought to the people in his life. It was inevitable that Scipio would notice how excited he felt whenever Prosper was around him, or the way his heart sped up a little whenever they touched - even if it was just a hand on a shoulder.

Was this love? Was this was it felt like to be in love? Prosper's resting face, his slightly parted lips, his soft skin, the steady rise and fall of his chest, the heat of his fever radiating through his every pore... it all made Scipio's stomach knot up just before it released butterflies.

Was this love? Was this the proper feeling to classify as love? Scipio's chest felt tight in a desire to take away Prosper's cold. Prosper had always been there for him, in sickness or in health. When everyone else would avoid him during an illness, Prosper would keep him company and do homework right beside him. When he was hurting in school, Prosper appeared like a wish come true and helped him regain his grades. Prosper was always right beside him, or behind him, hiding just out of view until he was needed.

Scipio had become so used to Prosper's presence that he'd felt uncomfortable at breakfast without him there. Was that love, or was it Scipio taking advantage of Prosper? Was it even okay to consider being in love with Prosper? His father would have a fit if he found out Scipio was thinking of such things. There would be hell to pay, no doubt.

Footsteps.

Scipio froze. His lips were millimeters away from Prosper's. He could feel his breath bounce off Prosper's lips and skin he was so close. Someone was coming. Scipio sighed out and pulled away. It had been a stupid idea anyway. What if Prosper had woken up? Then what would he have said to explain himself? A knock came at the door.

"Scipio? Prosper? Are you guys still in there?" it was Riccio.

"Yeah," Scipio called out as quietly as he could while still being loud enough for Riccio to hear him.

"Breakfast is almost over! You better hurry down!" Riccio called to the door loudly and then ran off, footsteps thudding down the hall and stairs.

Prosper stirred beside Scipio, taking in a loud breath. Then Prosper rolled onto his side and coughed into his hand. His eyes opened, and he blinked blearily before noticing anyone else was in the room. He probably hadn't known exactly what had woken him.

"Scip?" he asked. Scipio nodded and smiled, leaning back on his hands.

"Yeah. How are you feeling?" the raven haired teen asked.

"Fine. How are you?" Prosper asked, pushing himself to a sitting position. Scipio frowned. Sick and coughing and yet he still worried about others first. He definitely wasn't fine, yet he lied to try and keep Scipio from worrying.

"I'm sure I'll make it through," Scipio said. "Are you hungry? I'll bring you some soup."

"Hm... yeah. Sounds good, but I can go down myself," Prosper said.

The brunette pushed himself up to a standing position. His covers curled in a crumpled heap on the floor at his feet. Prosper was in his normal sleeping attire, which meant he was wearing a pair of older shorts and no shirt. Scipio's eyes strayed over Prosper's stomach and chest... and the curve of his neck. Prosper scratched the back of his head in a tired manner as Scipio's stomach contracted again with butterflies.

Prosper took a step towards the door. Scipio barely broke out of his stunned admiration of Prosper's body in time to notice the way Prosper's feet didn't move quite right and sent the boy tumbling for the floor. Scipio slid himself forward and caught Prosper before he could hit the floor.

"You cannot go down by yourself. I think you just proved that. I'm going with you or you'll end up falling down the stairs!" Scipio exclaimed as he helped Prosper to his feet again.

"Alright, alright," Prosper laughed, and it was a gloriously clear laugh. The fever did nothing to ruin that wonderful sound. And Scipio smiled.

-- -- -- -- --

They say you never notice how much you use something, or need something, until it's gone or unusable. Scipio now knew just how true it was. Sitting at the dinner table, Scipio felt crippled by his father's gaze. Prosper had been restricted to his room for rest and food was brought to him instead of him coming to the food. Massimo senior thought it had been too detestable an idea to even imagine dragging those germs through the house. After he caught Scipio helping Prosper to the kitchen, he ordered Prosper be returned to his room and the entire area he'd passed through to be disinfected.

You'd think Prosper had the plague.

In short, Scipio had not seen Prosper all day… and before anyone was allowed to go to bed tonight, the maids were ordered to disinfect the children's room and move Prosper out if he was still ill. If that was the case, Scipio wouldn't see Prosper all night or maybe even the whole next day!

Sitting under his father's gaze was like being stuck in a blizzard with no clothes on. With Prosper upstairs sick, Scipio noticed for the first time how much he needed him. Prosper was like a shelter with a fireplace and a warm jacket in this blizzard. Had his father's stare always been this fierce? Suddenly it was as if Scipio was a prized pony, and his father was appraising him to decide if he was ready to go into a show.

Scipio understood. His father was seeing just how big a fool of himself Scipio would make in America. He was watching for anything Scipio did wrong and would scold him about it later… then he'd do it again just before Scipio left.

Yes… Because Scipio was going to leave. At the end of this week, Scipio would be gone for three whole years. He felt like he was abandoning all the orphans, but mostly Prosper. The way Prosper had kept his secrets and had just smiled at the news of Scipio leaving… wasn't Prosper hurting on the inside? Wasn't that what those smiles meant? The ones where he licked his lips before the corners of his mouth ever began to incline - weren't those the smiles he gave when he was unsure, a little nervous… upset but smiling through it?

Could Scipio really just leave when he could visibly see how much he was going to hurt Prosper? He didn't want to go, damn it!

Scipio closed his eyes and held his breath. Across the table, Hornet gave him a worried look. Almost a minute later, Riccio and Bo had caught on. Bo tapped Mosca's arm until the black boy noticed Scipio's face… was turning red.

Hornet covered her mouth. Scipio wasn't breathing!

"Scipio-!" she exclaimed in a harsh whisper. "Scipio, stop it!"

Despite the table being much too long and Mr. Massimo sitting at the very end, the head of the house heard her anxious plea. He looked at Scipio's face and his eyes widened.

"Scipio, whatever you're doing, I demand that you stop it at once!" he ordered loudly.

Scipio didn't respond. He held his silverware in his hand, poised as if waiting to be given permission to eat, though his plate was half empty. His face was turning from red to purple. His hands were clenching tighter on his fork and knife. Mr. Massimo stood up from the table so fast, his chair was knocked over.

Before anyone could move, he walked up to Scipio and brought his hand back. The echo of his palm connecting with Scipio's cheek shocked every person at the dinner table. Scipio hit the floor and gasped. His eyes sprung open, his silverware went flying, and his hand snapped to his cheek. He looked up at his father in stunned silence. Had he… really hit him?

"You stupid child! When will you learn to grow up?!" the older man yelled almost louder than when Riccio had knocked over a one of a kind vase when he was 8. The older Massimo's face was almost as red as Scipio's, which was slowly regaining its normal color.

"I swear, if you ever try anything like that again, I will ship you to a workhouse!" he threatened. Scipio dropped his hand from his cheek and glared. He pushed himself up off the floor and stood as tall as he could, getting right in his father's face.

"Go ahead and do it!" he dared. "Ship me off to the workhouse! It's just as good as America! It shouldn't even be me you're shipping to this school! Prosper deserves it ten times as much as I do!"

Scipio's eyes were watery and a few tears leaked out.

"I will not pay to see an unwashed orphan go to school," Massimo Senior replied coldly, his normal demeanor returned. "Now finish your dinner and go to bed. I will not stand for you to make a larger scene than you already have."

"Fine," Scipio growled. His tears were hot down his cheeks but his voice sounded clear. Then Scipio turned on heel and marched out of the room without ever glancing back at his dinner. He should have known it was a useless battle.

* * *

A/N: I based how I made Scipio act after being slapped on a part in the book where he begs his father to save Hornet from the police. Aw, I loved that scene. Things in this story are going to get rather emotional in the next few chapters, so be prepared.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: -humming- Alt + Enter.... new page... chapter.... 9.... "Scipio looked up at his mother, who was washing dishes in her own sink..."... oop. No more spoilers for you. XD

* * *

Chapter 5

It was easy to say that the entire Massimo estate was tense the next day. To be more specific, Scipio had not ventured from his room when lunch rolled around. The air inside the mansion was eerily quiet, even more so than usual. Massimo senior had blocked off the next two days of his work schedule to make sure Scipio was properly prepared to go to America and not utterly screw up.

The orphans tried not to leave their portion of the hall except to eat. After last night, no one wanted to be within ten feet of Massimo senior. He glared at any person under the age of twenty before even taking time to decide which child he was seeing. Prosper had recovered quickly, bright and better the next morning. He caught on to the mood fast and heard what had happened the night before.

The other children kept him in the hall as well. They feared what Signore Massimo would do to Prosper because Scipio had used the eldest orphan's name in the fight last night. Would the older Massimo blame Prosper and punish him? They weren't going to chance it.

"Keep working on problems 3 through 15, and I'll be right back," Prosper ordered to the orphans as he stood. He was tutoring them all in math. He heard Riccio groan and Mosca chuckle softly. Math was no one's favorite subject, but they had to learn it.

Prosper tip-toed down the hall to the stairs. He leaned up against the wall and took a moment to himself. Deep breaths and sighs came easily. He wondered if the others had noticed his anxiety. Prosper ran a hand over his face and licked his lips. Scipio was leaving in two days time, and yet Prosper had become sick. How had he allowed himself to waste that time? Not only that, Scipio had tried to suffocate himself! Was that because of Prosper's illness or because of America? Scipio had never tried anything so bold before.

The eldest orphan glanced around the corner of the stairs. He heard faint footsteps but they were nowhere near the stairs. Without another thought, he scampered past the staircase and behind the other wall. He took another deep breath and waited to see if he'd been heard or seen, though he knew he hadn't. Prosper's next step was knocking on Scipio's bedroom door soft enough to not draw attention. The orphans had warned him to stay out of sight for a while, and he was doing his best.

"What do you want?" Scipio's voice emanated from behind the solid wood door, painted black. His voice was terse and unwelcoming. Prosper bit his lip. How to explain without raising his voice through the door? He stood there for several moments deliberating. His fingertips trailed down the door, making no noise. Wasn't there someway Scipio would know it was him without Prosper having to call out?

Apparently so, because the door handle turned. Then Scipio was peeking out into the hall at him.

"Why didn't you just say it was you?" he asked. Prosper smiled.

"Can I come in?"

Scipio rolled his eyes and nodded, letting the door swing open for his eldest 'brother'. Prosper slipped in and quietly closed the door behind him. He locked it, knowing that's how Scipio had it. Even that seemed quieter.

"Sorry. The others told me to stay inconspicuous," he explained as he strolled in and sat in Scipio's desk chair. Scipio flopped down onto his back.

"Well I assumed it was one of you. A servant or my father wouldn't have stayed quiet like that," Scipio admitted. "I was hoping for you out of all the options…. So why did you come?"

Prosper shrugged.

"I wanted to make sure you were alright. Trying to suffocate… I mean, how could you even think of that, Scip? Dying isn't the -," Prosper said and was cut off.

"Oh don't give me that," Scipio snapped to get it out fast enough. The actual Massimo winced internally when he saw Prosper flinch away from him and his tone. "Sorry… What I meant is… I didn't think about it. It just happened. I was just thinking about everything I was going to have to do and all the people I was leaving behind and how you deserved this school so much more than me… and the next thing I knew, I was turning blue and my father was hitting me."

Silence followed the sullen admission, though it wasn't uncomfortable. The silence was mutual thinking time. Scipio was back to thinking about all those things, but mostly about Prosper. He glanced over at the eldest orphan out of the corner of his eye. He wondered what Prosper was thinking and what Prosper thought about him in general. How would Prosper react if he knew what Scipio had been contemplating yesterday morning when he'd been ill?

Then Prosper looked over at him and they locked gazes. Scipio held that stare for three seconds exactly. Then he cast his gaze back up at the ceiling. Prosper leaned back in his chair and took a deep, audible breath.

"Scipio, I forbid you from ever doing something to knowingly endanger your life again," the orphan ordered. Scipio sat up on his bed and cast a shocked look over at his friend.

"What?" he asked.

"You heard me. You are not allowed to try to kill or harm yourself on purpose for any reason," Prosper restated his order.

Scipio's face broke out in a grin. Though, he did not laugh like he normally would… The young master of the house stood up and walked over to Prosper. He offered his hand and helped the other male stand.

"Okay," he agreed, still holding Prosper's hand. "If that is what you wish."

That's when he dropped Prosper's hand, letting his fingertips stay connected as long as possible. Prosper smiled. Both of them missed the contact and tried to hide the fact, but didn't notice the other was doing the same. Then Prosper walked toward the door.

"I'm going to go help the others with math. You want to come?" he asked. Scipio took a moment to consider and then shook his head, his long black hair wavy as though moved by wind.

"Nah. I'll stay here until dinner. I have some things to do before father comes to find me," Scipio explained.

"Alright. See you at dinner then," Prosper agreed and left the room. Scipio waited until he heard the other door shut with an almost silent thud.

He sighed. Prosper had probably been able to tell he wasn't completely happy and that he'd lied to stay in isolation. He just couldn't face everyone yet. They'd give him wary glances and treat him like glass… and Scipio couldn't handle that right now. He couldn't smile and act like everything was alright for a long enough time to appease them… not yet. Hopefully by dinner, but for now he just wanted to sit and mourn over what he was going to leave for three whole years.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

Scipio had been right. When dinner rolled around, Prosper revealed that Scipio had promised to make an appearance. The others were relieved and jubilant, but Prosper could see the anxiety in their faces. Scipio's fear of being treated like glass might just happen. But Prosper's worries far exceeded that issue. Scipio's plane took off tomorrow night. The Massimo's would leave the house for the airport just after a late lunch. Signore Massimo would be spending an allotted time after dinner prepping Scipio. Then the process would continue tomorrow morning after breakfast all the way until Scipio got on the plane. It would be quite hectic.

Prosper took his seat at the dinner table, across from Hornet and next to Bo. He scanned their faces again. Bo seemed oblivious to the other's nervousness. He chattered on and on about how Scipio would be coming to dinner and how he was going to cheer the older boy up. Hornet smiled and engaged in his conversation, but she cast nervous glances at Prosper and at the doorway.

When the door opened, all talking ceased. Breaths were held. A Massimo strode into the dining hall, but it wasn't Scipio. Eyes were diverted as Massimo Senior walked past the table.

"Where is my son?" he asked the room as he arrived at his seat at the head of the table.

"Coming… sir," Mosca answered, head down.

"Good. Hopefully we'll be able to get through a meal without any more shenanigans," the business man said, smoothing out his jacket and fixing how his utensils sat on the table. No one missed the look he threw at Prosper. It wasn't subtle at all. In fact, it was as though he was giving Prosper an open threat, a challenge to even attempt to put a toe out of line.

"Yes," Prosper said, taking the challenge. Everyone was on edge around them. "Yes, hopefully _Scipio's_ feeling much better and will be able to enjoy a delicious dinner with us." He stressed Scipio's name, putting feeling into the fact that the older man didn't seem to care how his son was fairing at all.

As though waiting to hear his name, Scipio walked into the room through the door his father had left cracked open. He walked slower than his father and took his seat between Prosper and his father.

"Evening," Scipio greeted, nodding to the other orphans. "Evening, Father," he added to the older version of himself.

"Scipio. So glad you could grace us with your presence. Just what have you been doing all day? You even skipped your private lesson," Mr. Massimo asked. Scipio shrugged. "Of course. No doubt frittering away your remaining moments doing something childish. Not to worry. America will knock that impulse out of you."

"Oh, I hope not," Bo piped up. All eyes spun to land on him and the young one covered his mouth and looked up at Prosper with a look that asked 'did I say that out loud?' mixed with 'is there any way to fix it?'

"Perhaps I should send you as well, hm, young one?" Mr. Massimo asked, his constant glare in place. Prosper slammed his hands on the table and cast a glare so fierce on his 'father' that it even gave Scipio shivers. Prosper and Massimo Senior glared straight into each other's eyes for what seemed like forever but what really took place in only a few moments – just long enough for the maids to begin bringing out the food.

Then Massimo Senior looked away and thanked the maid. He put his napkin in his lap and nodded. Prosper relaxed but everyone could tell he was still pissed.

"Yes, well… maybe in a few years or so," Mr. Massimo allotted. "But let's put off speaking of the trip. Now we eat before the food cools."

And eat they did. Light conversation bubbled up by the middle of the meal, easing the tension and worry about the last day's events and the events to come. However, none of them, none but the master of the house, knew just how bad things would get.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: **_STOP!!_** Read this! If you are reading this and did not review chapter five, **GO BACK!** Yes! Go back and review to chapter five! Trust me, it'll make me feel better. I'll know how you feel about the story and what parts you like about it… well, hopefully, anyway. So Go Back! Quickly! Push the chapter back arrow! I know there are AT LEAST _30_ people I'm talking to because I've only gotten two reviews and I have at least 32 visitors to chapter 5… as of yesterday! So go back and review! Please! I beg of you! XD

In fact! It is only because I got another review that this chapter is even up! So thank Kyra and the time she took to review! Much love Kyra- and of course Mochiusagi as well!

Chapter 6

Late that night, Prosper lay awake all alone. The others had been asleep for hours. It must be near one in the morning. Out the window, Prosper could hear the crickets. He tried to concentrate on them to lull himself to sleep, but his mind kept wandering off on every other subject possible. He rolled onto his side and closed his eyes, but still sleep evaded him. Why, he wondered. Why couldn't he drift off? Was he really that worried about Scipio leaving? Or was it more because he was so angry at their 'father' for even suggesting that Bo would be shipped off somewhere without Prosper?

Prosper would never let that happen. He sat up from his bed and looked over at his brother, who was sleeping in his own bed for once. Bo wiggled in place and then rolled over onto his stomach, murmuring in his sleep. Prosper smiled. No. Bo would never be taken from him. Never.

Out in the hall, Prosper heard something fall. He stared at the door, ready to move if someone tried to come in. For several minutes, nothing happened. Prosper slid his legs off his bed and stood. In a few quick strides, he was at the door. Slowly, very slowly, he turned the gold plated handle. It was cold, and, when he opened the door, a slight draft passed into the room.

No one. He didn't see anyone in the hall, even with the dimly lit lamps hanging in the house. With one last glance cast over his friends and brother, Prosper slipped into the hall. He trekked as quietly as he could to the stairs and looked out into the rest of the house. Noise. He turned his head and stepped down a few stairs to get a better view. The kitchen was lit up.

Thieves? Here? Prosper snuck down the stairs quickly and ran to the kitchen door, hiding just out of view. Footsteps. Yep, there was definitely someone in there. Prosper took a deep breath to gather courage. The person in the kitchen dropped a bag of something and cursed lightly. Prosper's eyebrows knit together.

He peeked around the corner of the door. It took only a moment for his eyes to adjust to the bright light of the kitchen. Then he saw Scipio picking up chips off the floor and throwing them away. Scipio stood with the rest of the bag and sighed, setting it on the island.

"Scip?" Prosper asked, taking a step into the kitchen. Said teen jumped and turned around. He visibly relaxed when he saw it was Prosper.

"Don't scare me like that, Prop," he said, a little smile of relief on his face.

"What are you doing?" Prosper asked. Suddenly he was aware of the fact that he hadn't pulled on a shirt and was mostly naked save for his sleep pants. No. No time to worry about that.

"Uh…," Scipio turned bashful, running his fingers through his own hair and looking back at the chips. "Well, I couldn't sleep so I decided to come get a snack."

"Well that's no snack," Prosper teased. "At least, not one worthy of someone like you. Besides, what would your father say if he knew?" He walked over to the fridge and began to search around it.

"Um… He'd be rather perturbed, I'm sure. Prop, what are you looking for? No one's playing hide and seek," Scipio pointed out.

Prosper laughed. He turned around and held out Oreos. He sat them on the island before Scipio.

"Pull up two chairs. This is a proper snack," he said. He turned back to the fridge and pulled out the milk. Then he headed for the cups.

"But, aren't those the ones I gave you for your birthday last week?" Scipio asked, but he was pulling up chairs anyway.

"Uh… no? No. The cook bought these especially for me and told me not to let the others eat them," Prosper added in a more teasing tone. Scipio frowned.

"Prop, I'm not going to eat your birthday present," he stated firmly. Prosper poured two glasses of milk.

"No. You're going to eat a gift from me," Prosper corrected. "I'm offering them to you. If it's my gift, then I get to decide what to do with it. I say, we're going to eat these cookies together."

He set the glasses in front of Scipio and took a seat beside him. Scipio looked down at the milk and the Oreos that Prosper was opening. Prosper threw him an encouraging smile that he couldn't help but return.

"Alright. Fine," he finally said and grabbed an Oreo.

And that's how it happened. For the next hour and a half, they sat and talked. Sure, they ate Oreos, but most of the little chocolate cookies were left when they finished. They mostly just talked. Scipio was laughing, which had become Prosper's goal. Apparently, Mosca and Riccio had tried to cheer him up after dinner by putting the butler's pet tarantula in his bed – in its cage of course. Then Bo tried to help him out by giving the spider back to its owner and then helping him get ready for bed – and royally messing up but doing his best. The recap of these events was so funny; they constantly had to remind themselves to be quiet.

Prosper finished laughing as Scipio dipped another Oreo into his milk. The oldest orphan checked the clock over the pantry and frowned a little. He quickly replaced it with his smile again and licked his lips.

"It's two thirty in the morning. Don't you have to be up to eat breakfast and get ready for your flight by seven?" Prosper asked. Scipio frowned as he ate his last cookie.

"You just had to ruin the mood, didn't you?" he asked. However, after he swallowed, he couldn't help smiling. "Yeah. But I'll have plenty of time to sleep on the flight. Man, you have no idea how much I wish you could come with me."

"Same here," Prosper agreed. Scipio took a deep breath, held it for a moment, and then exhaled. He nodded.

"Okay. We better clean up and then go to bed," he decided.

"No, I'll clean. You go to bed," Prosper said. Before Scipio could argue, he added "I'm not the one who has tons of stuff to do tomorrow. Now go."

Scipio beamed and gave Prosper and big hug. Prosper returned it, wrapping his arms snuggly around Scipio's lithe form.

"I'm going to miss you so much," Scipio murmured into Prosper's shoulder.

"And I'll miss you," Prosper replied softly, rubbing Scipio's back. The older male's body had begun to shake. "It's okay, Scipio… It's not like we'll never see each other again. It's only three years, and we can send letters. It's America, not another galaxy."

Scipio nodded and let out a laugh, but that was it. Then Scipio began to cry, shaking and sobbing into Prosper's shoulder. Prosper pat his back and pet his head. He kept silent and just let Scipio finish. He knew no words would stop it - he'd already said what he had to say anyway. Slowly, Scipio calmed himself. The last stretch to normalcy was Scipio pushing away from Prosper, clearing his throat, and rubbing his eyes dry.

"Sorry. I don't know what -," he began. Prosper shook his head.

"It's alright, Scip. I understand. This will be just between the two of us," Prosper said, mimicking their promise from a few nights ago about his own crying session. "Now you should really head to bed. Almost three, you know."

Scipio nodded. He gave Prosper a thankful smile and trudged out of the kitchen and into the darkness of the house. Prosper took a deep breath, letting the feeling of warmth in his chest settle down. Then he stood and began to straighten out the kitchen. First he put the chairs back where they'd come from. Then he took the cups to the sink and poured out the little bit of milk they hadn't finished off. He washed them out and dried them off. When he was satisfied with how they looked, he put them back in the cabinet from where they came.

Then he sealed the remaining Oreos and set them on top of the refrigerator. He turned to grab the milk and froze. Signore Massimo was in the doorway to the kitchen. When had he gotten there? Prosper nodded to him in a submissive way, not wanting to set him off. Then he grabbed the milk.

"Leave it," the older man ordered. Prosper hesitated but then pulled his hand away.

"Sir?" he asked.

"Something of a glutton, aren't you?" Signore Massimo asked.

"Excuse me?" Prosper huffed, already feeling his temper boiling up.

"I feed you a magnificent dinner and breakfast is in a few hours – a feast of a breakfast if I do say so myself - and yet here you are… eating. Eating _my_ food and drinking _my_ milk," the man spoke testily.

"I was eating my birthday present," Prosper corrected, trying to control his tone.

"That's unlikely," Signore Massimo replied half to himself. He walked to the island and stopped, standing as though he were a king talking to a peasant. "I find myself growing tired of you," he said suggestively.

"Excuse me?" Prosper asked again.

"You. I find myself tiring of you and the nonsense you cause," his guardian explained. While Prosper tried to argue, he continued – ignoring every little sound or word Prosper tried to get in. "Since the day you arrived, my son has been growing steadily more insolent. Take the other day, for instance. Crying and blubbering because he was being sent instead of you. One might even go so far as to say he thought you were a better person than him. Ha. The very idea! Can you even imagine?"

He cast a disgruntled glare at Prosper.

"No, I suppose you can't, can you? Anyway, I've had it up to my ears in your games. I'm finished with it. Today marks a new day in Scipio's life, one where he stops being a child and learns what life really requires of him. You'll just be a hindrance… you and the rest of them. None of you will be able to write to him, or vice versa… In fact, I think I'll just do away with all of you," he decided, looking at the ceiling and lost in his own thoughts.

"No!" Prosper exclaimed in shock. He was going to throw them all out? But-! Prosper couldn't think of a better home for Bo to grow up in! And what about the others? Would they be picked up by less fortunate families? They'd be scattered and miserable if they were shipped back to the orphanage! And there was no guarantee Bo and Prosper would be adopted together again… or that Prosper would ever be adopted again at all. "You can't."

Signore Massimo looked back at Prosper's distraught face. He smirked.

"No? How about just you then? Hm? Sound good? You for everyone else," he offered, hands clasped behind his back.

Prosper swallowed heavily. Riccio, Mosca, Hornet, and Bo…. They would get to stay if he left? He'd go back to the orphanage alone so they could all stay here with all they would ever need? And… and he'd never see them again if he knew Signore Massimo's conniving mind – at least not until they left this house. Was it a fair trade? Not seeing any of them for years, possibly ever, in exchange for them all having a plentiful family and life?

"Y-yeah," Prosper nodded. "I'll… I'll do it. Just please don't send them back. I'm the trouble maker, right?"

Signore Massimo's smirk grew and he nodded.

"Yes. Quite right. Good deal, young Prosper. Get your things together. The maids will pack it all for you. And don't tell the other children you're going. You'll be leaving right after Scipio – no need to distract him, you know," the man explained. Then he turned on his heel and strolled out of the room and into the darkness of his large house.

Prosper fell against the island and held on to keep himself upright. That had been the best choice, right? But… never getting to see them, any of them, ever again… No more Mosca, no more Riccio, no more Hornet…. No more Bo!... no more Scipio….

Prosper's eyes stung with tears. He dropped to the nearest chair and, alone in the house with no Scipio to find and comfort him, he cried. The tears rolled silently down his cheeks as the clock ticked on… leaving him behind. No. He was the one leaving… He was leaving everyone… everyone.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Absoposolutely fantabulous! LOL! Absoposolutely fantabulous! XD I love it! (if confused, please refer to the reviews page, accessible through the link just above these words.)

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Chapter 7

When the sun had risen, Prosper shook the others awake. He hadn't slept that night, not at all. He had spent all the time between three and now washing his face clear of his tears and even putting on a bit of cover-up makeup that Hornet had in the bathroom. No one seemed to suspect a thing as they pulled on their clothes for the day and took turns going to the bathroom. When all but Bo had used the bathroom, Prosper went and knocked on Hornet's door. He used to wake her up at the same time, but then there was a rush to see who could get the bathroom first or her getting angry at feeling like she was wasting time. Then he woke her up first and she took forever because she likes to take morning showers and the boys got angry. So now he wakes her up when the boys are all done.

Hornet smiled and greeted him as she walked past him toward the bathroom, towels and clothes in hand. Prosper smiled back and then looked down at Scipio's room. The other was already up and about, packing his bags. For a long while, Prosper had sat outside his door and listened to him rummaging around in drawers and pulling out long forgotten suitcases from his closet. It took all he had not to burst into that room and tell him everything.

Prosper took one step toward Scipio's room when a figure appeared at the top of the stairs. It was the head of the house himself. Had it been any other day, Prosper would have thought it odd to see him up here, but today Prosper's heart skipped a beat and he drew back a step. Signore Massimo gave him a curt nod. Somehow Prosper found it threatening, foreboding. It was no more cruel than normal, but after last night he couldn't help his thoughts making it worse.

The man walked to Scipio's door and tapped three times. Before Scipio could even call out to ask who was there, he was answered.

"Time for breakfast, Scipio. Don't dawdle," Signore Massimo called, barely raising his voice and sounding rather bored about the whole issue. Despite talking to Scipio, the man was watching Prosper. He hadn't taken his eyes off the oldest orphan since he'd first spotted him. Prosper knew it. He wasn't imagining it. Signore Massimo was taunting him.

"Coming," Scipio's voice sounded from behind the door. He sounded odd to Prosper. Then the door opened and he took another step back.

Scipio was the one standing there, but he did not look like Scipio. His hair was slicked back and short. When had Scipio's hair been cut off? His face was blank and his mouth looked as though it didn't remember how to smile. He was wearing a suit, crisp and clean and newly pressed. His undershirt was pristine white and he was even wearing dress shoes… inside… before breakfast. Who was this and what had happened to Scipio?

"Good. You look wonderful. Come along," Signore Massimo ordered, walking down the stairs.

Scipio walked like they were attached by string. He stood upright, like a gentleman should, shoulders back as though trying to look taller. Riccio had stumbled out into the hall just as Scipio got as close as he would get. A stupid grin came on his face.

"Take a look at you," he teased. Scipio inclined his head toward them. When he locked eyes with Prosper, he gave a slightly uneasy smile as though asking him what he thought while also asking him to understand.

"… See you," was all Prosper could think to get out before Scipio was frowning and walking down the stairs again. Prosper's heart felt frozen in shock. The more he thought about it, the more he understood why he was still scared even after they left. Scipio had looked even more like miniature of his father than he normally did. The short hair, the perfect suit, the unsmiling face and distant eyes… they were all trademarks of Signore _Dottore_ Massimo.

"Prop, you okay?" Riccio asked, waving a hand in his face. Prosper nodded.

"Yeah, I'm fine. It just shocked me," he admitted. Riccio nodded too.

"Yeah, but it's still the same Scipio underneath, yeah?" Riccio reminded, nudging Prosper with his arm. Prosper nodded again.

"Get the others ready, will you? I'm going downstairs," he said. Then he was walking away before Riccio good accept or reject his order.

He felt numb. His body felt like someone else's. He had cried half the morning as he felt his heart break. Then he saw Scipio acting and looking like his father. It was as if the pieces of Prosper's heart were turning to dust because of how small they were breaking. How had his life spiraled so easily? Just this morning, Scipio had been normal and happy and fun. Now he was… almost cold. What had happened to change him so quickly?

Behind him, he heard Riccio calling out to others, but he wasn't listening to what he was saying. He was halfway across the foyer when the door clicked. He paused in walking and turned to look at the front door. All the maids should already be inside. The front door was always locked. Who else had a key to get in here besides the maids and the Signore Massimo? Even the orphans didn't have keys.

The door swung open and a woman stepped in… or more like stumbled in. She wore a tiny fur jacket that barely reached her hips. Her shirt was crimson red, her jacket light blue and pinstriped. She wore matching blue, pinstriped pants that flared slightly at her ankle. Her boots were high heeled and fashionable, black and tie-up. She wore black leather gloves. Her hair was shoulder length, tied back in a short ponytail, and black. Her skin was fair and light. She was pulling a suitcase into the house with a messenger bag slung over her shoulders and packed tight.

Then she looked up once the door was shut behind her. She stared at Prosper and straightened up a bit. Then she seemed to recognize him and she beamed.

"Oh, Prosper dear! You've grown so tall!" she exclaimed, trying to open her arms to hug him before realizing she was still holding heavy bags. She frowned a little at that before smiling back at Prosper. "Oh my, you know, you probably don't recognize me."

Her accent was there, but seemed a bit blurred by an American clarity. Still, she was obviously Venetian. Prosper looked at her face. Plump, but not huge, lips. Wide blue eyes. A tiny nose. A smile that almost broke her face in half.

"Signora Massimo?" he asked, incredulously. Her smile got wider.

"Long time no see, my little hero," she greeted. Prosper couldn't help himself. He smiled. Without thinking, he ran to her side and grabbed her bag.

"I'll take your bag to your room, Signora!" he exclaimed. She chuckled and shook her head, pulling it away from him.

"No, no. My husband still has servants, doesn't he? They'll take care of it. But I see you haven't changed at all – always wanting to do things for others," she said, nudging him with her arm. Prosper blushed.

"It's not that, Signora. I -," Prosper began but was interrupted.

"Prosper….," Signora Massimo began and frowned. "I… heard about your mother."

Prosper frowned. He'd completely forgotten about his own mother when this woman had walked into the house. Now he remembered, and he knew why she'd changed subjects so quickly. When they were new to the house, she used to try and get the kids to call her 'mom'. Riccio, Mosca, and Hornet did fine. Even Bo got around to calling her that on special holidays, but Prosper had never done it – always being respectful and appropriate… as her husband had put it. She kept trying to tell him to call her mother, but when she was last here it had been the same as usual.

"Yeah. I haven't had a chance to go to the orphanage yet. But… I'll go soon," he said. "Apparently she left me something."

"I'll go with you, if you want," Signora offered, setting down her bag and replacing her hand on Prosper's shoulder. He shook his head. That would be impossible.

"No. I can go alone," he assured her. "But right now is about Scipio, right?" and he managed to smile.

"Yes," she agreed, giving the same small smile. "Scipio's going on a trip. Just so happens I came back because I'm headed to America as well and thought my son could use a friend on the plane ride."

"Good," Prosper smiled, visibly relaxing. The Signora smiled again.

"You were worried about that as well, hm?" she asked, ruffling his hair. He laughed lightly and so did she. "Now, I think I smell food. Shall we eat?"

Prosper nodded. A maid rushed over in that instant and grabbed the Signora's bags. She'd probably been waiting just out of view, holding for a chance to come out without interrupting their reunion. Together, Prosper and Miss Massimo entered the dining hall.

"Guess who's home!" she announced as soon as the doors opened.

Scipio gasped and began to stand, but with one cough from his father, he sat back down to wait. Even Scipio's mother seemed to find her son's appearance and attitude odd. She frowned a little.

"Now what ever has happened to my energetic son?" she asked, walking over and taking a seat across from Scipio and next to her husband.

"He's not a child anymore. He understands what that means. Don't you, Scipio?" Signore Massimo asked. Scipio just nodded and said nothing.

Prosper slid silently into the seat beside Scipio. They exchanged a glance and then both looked down. It seemed they took simultaneous breaths before looking up at the mother and father of the house. Miss Massimo was watching them and they both wondered why.

"This is going to be sad," she commented. Even her husband looked at her then. "I always did think you two were joined at the hip. Separating you is going to feel so wrong," she explained. She rested her chin on her hands before her.

"Don't be ridiculous, dear. They're not even related. Separating them will feel like cutting butter," Mr. Massimo said, crushing the mood. He had a knack for being heartless.

Miss Massimo often told them he hadn't always been this cold, but it was hard to believe. Apparently he changed after they had a child. Suddenly he was all rules and etiquette. That was why she traveled a lot. She preferred feeling free to feeling trapped. Too bad she couldn't take all the kids.

"Well either way, I'm here to help with the arrangement," the Signora announced. She smiled one of those broad smiles again and Scipio's face broke out in a matching one.

Prosper tried to smile but his quick glance at Scipio left him feeling cold and he frowned. He looked down at the perfect table cloth and waited for breakfast. That's when the doors opened and the others came in. With excited smiles and exclamations, they greeted her with hugs and love. Prosper smiled when they talked to him as well. He could also tell Scipio wanted to hug his mother as well, but with his father right there he couldn't. Prosper wanted to say something comforting, but that seemed to be something they only did in private and this was very not private.

He felt Scipio looking at him and he made sure to look away at the others as they sat, specifically at Bo. He ran his fingers through his brother's hair and laughed when he squirmed away. He knew Bo actually liked him doing that, but he just wouldn't show it in front of the others. Then he gave his brother a hug and teased him. The others laughed. Even with Mr. Massimo there, the presence of his wife had everyone chipper… except Prosper, but he thought he hid it well.

"Prop, are you okay?" Bo whispered to him. Prosper was still holding him. Then Prosper pulled away and nodded.

"Yeah. I'll be fine," he assured Bo, ruffling his hair. The younger squeaked and quickly fixed it before he could get in trouble. Yes… Prosper would be okay – someday.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Sorry for taking so long. I haven't had much chance to sit down for awhile. I check emails and then I'm gone again it seems. ^_^ Anyway, enjoy.

Chapter 8

Scipio ended up getting ready to go on his own for most of the morning and till just past noon. Despite his father saying he would be teaching him how to act until he left, the man was nowhere to be seen. So Scipio was helped by his siblings: packing, carrying, smoothing out his suit, finding the plane ticket he'd misplaced, calming himself down, remembering his toothbrush and extra underwear, and a note they stuffed in his pocket that reminded him to write.

Yet, even though his father could not be seen, he could most definitely be heard. All morning, the house was filled with yelling. The Massimo parents were at it again, as they were very often when the signora came home. Scipio was glad his mother was home, especially because she distracted his father. He hated hearing them argue, but he would deal with it today. He liked getting prepared without his father. The fighting had paused for lunch, but it seemed the food only gave them more energy to fight.

"Every time you come home, you ruin months of work!"

"Work? What work? You're not going to turn those beautiful children into your mindless pawns!"

"You don't know what you're talking about! You think you can go travel the world then come back here and act like you know those kids? You don't know anything about them!"

"Well you don't either! They're living, breathing human beings with _feelings_! You can't make them perfect!"

"They would be if you would stop distracting them! I swear whenever you come home, it's like someone resets a game!"

"This is not a game!"

Scipio walked out of his bathroom and sighed, pushing his hair back out of his eyes and trying to smash it back into the rest of his gelled head. Prosper leaned against the wall and cleared his throat. The yelling was still going. Those two had had the same argument three times already today.

"Oh, hey Prop…," Scipio greeted with a tired smile.

"It's not our fault, you know," Prosper assured him. Scipio nodded.

"Yeah, I know… but it still hurts when they… well when they scream like that," the raven haired teen admitted, twiddling absentmindedly with his fingers.

"It'll be alright. Once you get out of this house, you'll be free. You'll go to America, out class all your classmates, make plenty of friends, have a great time… then you'll come back to see everyone… and you'll rescue them from this place and take them away. It'll be… perfect – just like in the storybooks," Prosper said, voice dissipating to a low murmur as he went. As he finished, the yelling got to a swell and both boys took painful breaths and kept their eyes on the floor.

Scipio was pained by the screaming. Prosper was pained by the future. Scipio shook his hands up and down a bit, as though trying to gather courage or stability. Then he took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and launched himself at Prosper. He wrapped his arms around the other male tightly and it took Prosper a moment to realize he had to hug back.

When the embrace was returned, Scipio nodded into Prosper's shoulder, the younger boy's hair tickling his nose.

"Thanks for everything, Prosper. I'll miss you the most," he said. Prosper bit his lip and closed his eyes as well. Scipio was going to be in so much pain… he knew that when Scipio learned of what happened to him, the older boy was going to cry and maybe even scream. But that pain would fade… or Prosper desperately hoped it would. It would for all of them. One day they'd look back and wonder who the boy Prosper even was… hopefully one day they would forgive him for being so selfish.

"I'm sorry," Prosper whispered into Scipio's ear, but the screaming drowned him out.

Then Prosper pulled away and hurried out of the room, into the hall, and into his own room. Scipio took a deep breath and tried to relax. He'd been so close… physically and emotionally. He'd held Prosper tightly, yet the other still managed to get out of it. Just another minute… just another second, and Scipio would have had the courage to tell Prosper everything about how he felt.

No. Maybe he wouldn't have had the courage. Perhaps he was only fooling himself. Then again, he'd never know. Prosper had pulled away… and Scipio had let him.

Downstairs, something crashed to the floor and more yelling erupted. Scipio took a deep breath and walked out of his room. The yelling was louder out here, and he wondered how two people could be so loud, but of course the house made it echo when you whispered so yelling was even worse. Looking down the hall, Scipio caught sight of a maid's back as she descended the stairs. Then another one exited the orphans' room, followed by Prosper.

She pat him on the shoulder and said something to him, but Scipio couldn't hear over the noise from downstairs. Prosper nodded to her and his mouth moved but Scipio couldn't read his lips. Then the maid turned and hurried downstairs to continue whatever job she was supposed to be doing.

"Scipio!" his father's voice boomed. "Get down here now! The car is ready!"

"Stop taking your anger out on him!"

"Oh will you just be quiet and not tell me how to raise my son?!"

"He's my son too!"

Prosper offered Scipio an encouraging look before walking down the stairs. Scipio nodded to himself, shrugged, and followed. The yelling died down soon after, and Scipio suspected a butler had alerted them to the fact that the driver could hear them outside and it was going to earn them a bad reputation. As he entered the courtyard, he heard his mother mutter something about 'all about the reputation' and his thoughts were confirmed.

The orphans were all lined up out front, smiling sad smiles at him. He walked past them to get to the car. Technically, cars were illegal in Venice, but the house was also technically not in Venice. Little loopholes his father enjoyed taking advantage of. Scipio ignored that fact, smiled, and said goodbye to each of his siblings personally. His good bye to Prosper was short, because he'd already said goodbye to Prosper twice today. Too many goodbyes were bound to make him cry. However, he did stop to watch Prosper for the length of time it had taken to say goodbye to the others.

It was his eyes. Prosper's eyes were captivating and he didn't know why. Something told him Prosper wanted to say something, but for some reason he wasn't. Scipio argued internally if he should ask, but in the end he shook his head and decided it was better not to. If it was important, Prosper would tell him.

The butler finished putting his bags in the trunk and alerted Signore and Signora Massimo of the news. Scipio's mother came down, her bags in hand. They were quickly added to the trunk and then she also bid the children farewell.

"But you just got back this morning!" they complained.

"I know, I know, but don't worry. I'll be back when Scipio returns. He's going to be staying with me, after all. Oh, don't give me those faces! We'll keep in touch!" she assured them, kissing them each on the forehead. The boys wiped it off, except Prosper, but you knew they all liked it.

Prosper mumbled a goodbye to her and she gave him a puzzled look. It was short lived, however, because Signore Massimo cleared his throat in a loud and rude way. The signora glared at him but got in the car. Through the windows of the car, Scipio and his mother could still be seen. The orphans waved as the car drove off. They continued to wave until it was out of sight.

Before any of them could even breathe in sadly, another car drove up to the front doors. Prosper took a deep breath. The butler came out, holding one suitcase, and put it neatly in the car's trunk. This car was smaller than the one Scipio and his mother left in, but it was jet black and very sleek. Mr. Massimo cleared his throat again and walked up to the car. He opened the door on the opposite side of the car from the children and looked up expectantly.

"Are you going somewhere as well?" Hornet finally piped up. Signore Massimo rolled his eyes.

"Get down here before I rip you into this car myself," he said in a bored tone. Hornet looked shocked and disgusted at the same time.

"What?!" she exclaimed. The others looked between her and the car, unsure what was going on. Then Prosper let out his breath and walked around to the open door.

"Prop?" Bo asked, his voice fully of worry and concern. Prosper looked at him and, before he could say anything, Signore Massimo spoke up.

"Everyone say goodbye. Prosper's going back to the orphanage," he explained. "Get in," he added to Prosper.

The other gasped. Prosper's face turned pained. The others looked so shocked and betrayed. Bo looked so sad. Before he could do something stupid, he dropped into the car. It was the only time his 'father' ever held a door open for him. He even closed it behind him. The car was virtually sound proof, but Prosper could still hear them all. As the dottore walked around to get in, they were screaming at him. They were asking him 'why' and 'how' and calling his name. Prosper turned away from them, staring out at the drive. He couldn't bear to look.

The door opened and a very loud, very clear voice called out to him.

"Prosper!" Bo cried out. Prosper couldn't help it. Like every other time his brother called him, he turned to look. He wished he hadn't. Past Signore Massimo's form, Bo was being held back by a maid. He was crying and struggling. The others were being held, but they were just inclined toward the car. They all looked like they wanted to jump forward at him. Bo began to cry very loudly, throwing a slight tantrum. Mr. Massimo reached for the door handle and glared at him.

"Shut up! You stupid child!" and Bo did stop. He flinched back in fear, his eyes still wet. "If you keep up that blubbering, I'll ship you off as well!" the head Massimo nearly screeched, his voice slightly hoarse from yelling at his wife all day.

Then a loud snap was heard and the car door was shut. Prosper was watching his brother's eyes as the car began to move. He even turned in his seat to look out the back. They were all frozen like that, just as they would be in Prosper's mind forever. Frozen in shock, in fear, and in confusion. They didn't understand… but Prosper hoped, he prayed they would figure it out and forgive him.

"Sit down like a normal person. For god's sake, put on your seat belt," Mr. Massimo ordered, his tone back to its natural bored state.

"Yes sir," Prosper said, doing as he was told.

"And don't look so sad. You didn't like living in my house anyway."

Prosper didn't reply. He just looked straight ahead. There was no looking back anymore.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:** It has been said by a reviewer that cars aren't illegal in Venice. They just are impossible to use in Venice. I am aware of this fact, but from my knowledge, cars are also illegal. Also, I think I mentioned it somewhere, but I'll clarify it here… In this story, the Casa Massimo is outside of Venice. It's not on the island, so cars are completely possible at the house. I don't know if there is an airport in Venice or if you'd have to go outside the city to catch a plane... but if the airport is in the city, the car Scipio left in would stop after it got as far as it could go and Scipio and his mother would then board a boat of some sort. I suppose this whole message is to correct a mistake… or to show how it wasn't a mistake. I'm not sure which exactly. It is sort of a gray area between the two in my mind. Anyway, I hope that clears up some stuff and makes some people feel better about the validity of the story. Thanks for the reviews! Enjoy this chapter.

**Also note:** I completely made up the Venetian University for Young Adults. I just needed a school name and so I made one that sounded fancy and rich.

* * *

Chapter 9

Scipio looked out the window as Italy vanished from beneath him. As they got up farther, he could even pick out his house among the hilly countryside. He wondered how his father was treating them now that he was gone. He wondered if they would all really send letters like they promised. Well, even if they didn't send anything to him, Scipio would send mail to them.

"Feeling homesick already?" he mother asked in a comforting tone. Scipio nodded.

"More like heartsick, honestly," Scipio admitted, turning from the window and shutting it so he couldn't see anymore. His mother looked slightly taken aback.

"Heartsick? Honey, did you have a special someone here in Italy? Why didn't you go see them before you left?" she asked, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"I did. I saw them all this morning," Scipio said, shrugging his mother off of him. "They helped me be able to smile about going to America even though I don't want to go. They've been helping me with it ever since I found out I was going, Mom. So I did see them before I left."

There was a moment of silence and then his mother adopted an even more confused look.

"Hornet?" she asked and Scipio had to laugh. For one, his mother seemed to find the idea incredulous. Two, it was. And three, his mother still called her 'Hornet', unlike his father. Scipio shook his head. Now his mother seemed to be considering an idea but not voicing it. She was probably wondering which female maid her son had an interest in.

"No," Scipio replied. "Hornet's not my type. Plus, she doesn't like me like that. We're just friends…well… siblings."

"Then…," his mother began. She placed her hand gently on Scipio's shoulder. He smiled at her, still finding the thought of being in love with Hornet to be rather amusing. "Is it Prosper?"

That one caught Scipio off guard. His face defaulted into shock and fear at the same time. He didn't know how he should act or look in response because he'd expected another ludicrous guess, but she'd hit the nail right on the head.

"It is, isn't it?" his mother asked again. She looked solemn.

Scipio was quiet for a long time. Then he lowered his gaze and frowned. As he thought about how to respond best, his mind drifted over ways to explain it all to her… to help her understand. In the second following the drop of his head, Scipio thought of all the times, all the memories that backed his feelings, that stirred them and made him even more sure of them. After that second, Scipio was smiling to himself – a very peaceful, loving smile. Without ever raising his head, staring at his knees, Scipio nodded.

"Yeah," he murmured. "Yeah, it's Prosper." Then he seemed to remember what was going on and his eyes widened. He looked up at his mother like a scared kitten afraid of being dropped on a street corner in a cardboard box… during a thunderstorm. She smiled sadly and pulled Scipio into the best hug she could manage.

"I always knew you two were close… Scipio, don't ever feel bad about feeling that way. If you truly love Prosper, there is nothing wrong with that… and then Prosper will really live up to his name – 'the lucky one'," she murmured into his ear. Scipio couldn't help but smile.

It wasn't the same smile he'd had on moments ago, but his mother knew he loved Prosper regardless. She'd watched it bud as they grew – seeing more because she wasn't around all the time… because she didn't consider it 'just normal behavior' for those two. She'd had a hunch those two were interested in each other… and just now, the way Scipio looked when thinking about Prosper, Signora Massimo was convinced. Scipio loved Prosper completely. She would support him because his feelings were true. You couldn't fake emotional smiles like that one.

"Thanks, mom," Scipio murmured. "But… even if I hold onto those feelings, what about on Prosper's side?"

"I'm sure he loves you too, baby. You may not have noticed, but he looks at you in a similar fashion to how he looks at Bo," the Signora said.

"Like I'm his little brother and he needs to protect me?" Scipio asked, confused. His mother laughed and shook her head.

"No, dear - like he loves you," she corrected, ruffling his hair. He frowned and pushed it back into place, which wasn't hard because his hair was pretty much stuck in the position he'd gelled it into.

"Tell me that again in three years," he said. He turned to look out the window. Just during their short conversation, Italy had vanished and now all he could see out his window was the endless blue ocean. His mother just frowned and pat his shoulder.

-- -- -- -- -- -- --

"Prosper! Can you come out here for a minute?" an older woman's voice called out. Prosper hummed to himself a moment and then nodded.

"I'm almost done with the dishes, Sister. I'll be out in a moment!" he called in return.

"No no. Leave them for now. We'll have someone else finish that," the woman assured him.

Prosper shook his head and sighed. Then he took a deep breath and put down the rag he'd been using. He dried his hands off and then made his way out to the entry way. The sister was standing there with an older couple. Not elderly like the sister, but not young either. They were probably mid-thirties to late forties.

"You wanted me, Sister?" Prosper asked, looking over the three adults warily. The sister smiled broadly.

"Prosper, we may have found you a new home!" she exclaimed happily. "Aren't you happy?"

But Prosper was shocked, nearly mortified. He didn't show it on his face, but he was devastated. He couldn't say no, but he didn't want to go. This couple looked really nice and even well off financially, but if Prosper left the orphanage, he might also leave Venice or he'd go somewhere and be unable to find his brother and friends again… or at least they wouldn't be able to find _him_. If he stayed here, the others knew where to find him, but if he left they would be lost!

"Y-Yeah! That would be great!" Prosper replied to the sister, not one to upset others.

"Wonderful! Please come over and sign here, Signora," the sister ordered, clapping happily and chatting about the paperwork. The woman seemed just as happy as the sister, almost giddy in her joy. The man stepped closer to Prosper and offered a handshake and a smile. Prosper accepted both.

"Prosper, right?" The orphan nodded. "Fine name. That means 'the lucky one', am I right?" the man asked.

"Y-yes sir," Prosper replied, nodding quickly. The man smiled brighter.

"You are quite lucky, my boy. I run a sea fairing ship and my wife is a school teacher. Well, that's her main job anyway. We make plenty of money, so you won't have to worry about a thing. You'll go to the finest school we can afford. I hear you're quite brilliant for your age," the man continued to try and strike up conversation. Prosper nodded once again.

"Yes sir… I was third in my class… at the Venetian University for Young Adults," Prosper explained. His new 'father' gasped and his eyes widened.

"The Ve-Venetian University for Young Adults? Third in your class? How on Earth did you manage to even go to that school? It's ludicrously expensive!" the man exclaimed.

"Honey! You won't believe it!" his wife laughed. "This kid lived with Dottore Massimo! Apparently he was kicked out for being too crafty!" she laughed again. "Isn't that perfect?! More crafty than the royal business swindler himself!"

The husband and Prosper shared a long look. That explained how Prosper had gotten into the school, but the man was still in a bit of shock from hearing Prosper was third in his class… at a top rate facility like that! He gave Prosper an uneasy look, as though he was afraid of him now.

"I wasn't kicked out for being crafty," Prosper spoke up, catching the man's attention. "That's what Signore Massimo said, but he told me I was leaving because I was distracting his real son… and I came back here willingly so my brother could be happy in a beautiful home like his."

"Well then I hope you aren't too upset with our house," the husband replied with an encouraging smile. Prosper was struck by how much the man hadn't asked him anything more. Then he smiled back as well.

"If it has a nice fireplace, maybe some blankets, and a couch… then I'll be at home," Prosper assured him.

"Wonderful," the man said. He clapped his hands together. "I can see we'll get along fine, Prosper. I'm the same way with homes. No extravagance needed, right?"

Prosper nodded with a shy smile. He had enjoyed the extravagance of the Casa Massimo. He knew it was unnecessary, but something about waking up in a beautiful building made the day seem brighter… or at least the morning. Still, he'd keep those thoughts to himself. No need to ruin his relationship with this man already… but he was being adopted. He, Prosper, a teenager, was being adopted!

He hadn't expected this to happen. He looked toward the door as the husband began rambling a bit. Inside, Prosper knew his little fantasy wouldn't happen, but he still wished those big doors would open and reveal his family, come to help him escape like in some adventure book Hornet read to them.

Then the woman was back and smiling at him. He turned back to her and looked upon her face. Her hair was curly, died blonde. Her face was long, but not too long. She had a homely smile, but you could tell she was a smoker despite her best efforts. She seemed really nice.

"Hello, Prosper. My name is Ida Spavento. I'm so excited to take you home! I hear you're a brilliant and wonderful child," she greeted him. When she saw his confused glance at the sister, she chuckled softly. "It's in your file. Signore Massimo wrote it….Well it was in very small print, next to the complaints about you, but it was in there and it made all his complaints seem almost childish."

Prosper was rendered speechless now. Mr. Massimo had said that... about Prosper? After all the complaints and all the yelling, his father of seven years had said he was brilliant and wonderful? Prosper felt his throat grow tight and then his eyes pricked with tears before he could stop them. He quickly wiped his eyes with his sleeve and shook his head at the same time. He couldn't put into words how touched he was. Even he was amazed by the grandness of the feeling. Still, he couldn't help feeling moved to tears by this one grand show of affection. Brilliant… and wonderful.

When Prosper looked back at Signora Spavento, she was smiling in an understanding way, while her husband looked rather confused by Prosper's sudden emotional state. Prosper smiled at her in shy but proud fashion. He shrugged.

"Well, I suppose if Signore Massimo said it, he must believe it's true," he replied, and once again he felt swollen by the gesture of respect represented in those five words.

"A brilliant and wonderful child."

* * *

A/N: Also, as an afterthought, I was slightly offended by the review pointing out the car issue. I'd voice this in a private message, except that the reviewer was either not signed in or doesn't have an account and I can't. Anyway, I'm rather offended. My knowledge of Venice may be slim seeing as I've never been to the city personally, but I do love Venice and I know all their policemen, fire department, and medics use boats. I know that the only transportation in Venice is walking or floating. For this reason, I made the mention of the Casa Massimo being outside the city so the use of cars would be possible. Anyway, I guess in short – please don't assume I'm unacquainted with my subject. I do try to be as knowledgeable as possible about the places and subjects I use in my fanfictions.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: 1, It is alright Ilcuvi. I know there was little chance that you would magically know I knew about Venice. I admit my idea of where I put the Casa Massimo is sketchy in my own mind. I just knew I wanted it away from the canal and where I could use cars. –shrug- anyway, due to the sad misunderstanding – I dedicate this chapter to you. Hope you like dramatic chapters. lol.

2, Sorry for the abnormally long wait. My comp's video card is on the fritz so I'm trying to use it as little as possible until I have the money to buy a new computer. Right now I'm using my sister's computer. I'll try to update quicker next time.

* * *

Chapter 10

Scipio paused in his writing to look up at his mother. She was humming as she washed dishes. SHE was washing dishes. She wasn't making a maid do it for her. That alone gave Scipio great pride in having her for a mother. After a short moment of his staring, his mother dried her hands and looked over her shoulder at him.

"No more writing today, Scipio?" she asked. Scipio shook his head.

"That's not it," he said. "I was just thinking of home."

"This is your home," Miss Massimo replied, frowning slightly at him.

"For now, but when these three years are over, I'm going to move back to Venice… at least for a little while. I have to at least go back and see the others. I promised," Scipio explained. "And I have to go back and tell Prosper everything. If you're right and he liked me, even after these three years, then I'll find a house to live in back in Venice… or at least still in Italy. However, if he rejects me, I'll be back in this house before the plane takes off the ground."

Miss Massimo threw her dish towel over her shoulder and frowned deeper. She strolled over to him and gave him a hug around his shoulders. Her eyes glanced over his paper. She took a deep breath.

"Writing about the effects of environmental based noise on the stress level of students?" she asked, a bit shocked. "That seems a bit advanced for your age, doesn't it?"

"A bit," Scipio admitted. "I'm meeting with a guy from school tomorrow to work on it with him because we have the same assignment." But Prosper probably could've done it all on his own, Scipio noted in his head. "The biggest problem is finding the right sources to cite and remembering how to cite properly."

"Well I'm sure you'll work it out," she assured him. Scipio sighed.

"Yes… but American schools seem so much pickier than Italian schools."

"But you do like living here, right?" Miss Massimo asked, concern evident in her face and voice.

"Yeah," Scipio smiled encouragingly at his mom. "I love living with you, Mom."

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

A year and six months after Scipio left for America and Prosper headed back to the orphanage only to be adopted within the week, Scipio found the world to be a harsher place than ever before. He was only half way through his exile to the United States of America and then… this had to happen.

Scipio watched out the car window as he was rushed through the streets. The world seemed to be shaking… like in those movies when a person starts to faint. Scipio felt like he was shaking too. In fact, he was. He couldn't stop himself. His whole body just wouldn't stop shivering despite the heater turned all the way up in the car. Rain thudded down on the car roof. The sky was a dark and dismal gray. Why did America have to be so ironically appropriate?

"I'm sorry, sir. Traffic's backed up. I'm going as fast as I can," his driver apologized. Scipio shook his head. He was in the passenger seat. The car was moving at a snail's pace, stuck in a traffic jam.

"It's… not your fault...," he murmured, but his body felt tense and stiff. He had to go faster. He had to be moving. He couldn't sit here in this car and be patient. "Actually, I'll meet you there," he quickly added and shoved the car door open.

Scipio ignored his driver's calls and panic. He slammed the door shut and made a quick dash down the sidewalk. He was instantly soaked right through his preppy school uniform. School was still in session, but the worried phone call that had arrived had pulled Scipio out of class early.

The sidewalk was literally dripping in the rain. Water rolled down across it and into the street. Puddles gathered every few steps. The bushes and trees that lined the street where no buildings stood were soaked and weighed down by the onslaught of rain. Scipio could hardly see where he was going. Besides the world shaking in his vision, blurring and focusing, shifting like an unsteady camera, Scipio's hair was sticking to him and blocking his eyes.

Scipio pushed his hair back and stumbled in a crack in the sidewalk. A second later, he miss stepped and fell right into a large and growing puddle. He winced. His knee was scuffed up now and his elbow hurt. So did his forehead. Scipio glared at the ground as though he could blame it for his pain. Then he began to shake even worse.

"Damn it!" he screamed and punched the wet concrete. He let out a pained cry afterward, pain shooting through his fist and arm. He shook his head wildly and ignored the pain. He didn't have time for this!

The young Massimo pushed himself up and kept running, the stinging in his knee the least of his problems. Soon, he was under a covering. Without slowing, he turned and ran into the building the overhang protected. He ran right until he hit a desk. He gripped it harshly.

"M-Massimo!" he exclaimed at the startled woman behind the counter. "Tell me where!"

She typed as quickly as possible, scared out of her wits. The woman looked over Scipio's wet and ragged appearance. He probably looked like a crazy teenager, which is exactly how he felt… but he didn't care! Why was she taking so long to tell him where to go?!

"Room 323. Take the elevator around the corner," the woman said, pointing. Scipio nodded. As he ran off, he remembered to call a thank you over his shoulder.

Where was Scipio? As the elevator moved sluggishly upward, Scipio remembered the call. Sitting in class and then being summoned to the office. At first he'd thought he was getting in trouble for some unknown reason. However, when they handed him a phone and gave him piteous looks, he knew that wasn't it. It was the hospital calling for him… His mother…. His mother had been attacked while at work. The suspect was caught, but not before shoving his mother down three flights of stairs backwards and shooting her in the side.

Apparently they only called because his mother had been conscious enough to beg them to call for him. Hospitals…. Scipio shivered, and it wasn't because he was soaked and standing in an air conditioned elevator.

The sterile elevator couldn't open fast enough. Scipio squeezed through as soon as there was enough room, startling people waiting to board. He didn't care. He pushed past everyone on his way to the hospital room.

"Mom!" he exclaimed as he burst into the room. A doctor was standing by her bed. She was patched up but still bleeding through the bandages. She was beginning to turn purple and black with bruises, but she was conscious and she smiled at him when she saw him.

"Scipio," she said in the happiest tone he could ever have expected. Her voice was tired and Scipio's eyes began to water. No. He shook his head and cleared the tears away. He got a distinct feeling he'd done that before sometime… or someone he'd known had. Right now it didn't really matter.

"Ah. This must be your son. Scipio, was it?" the doctor asked. He sounded nice enough. He probably looked nice and kind too, but Scipio couldn't take his eyes off his mother. He walked slowly forward to her bed.

He wasn't really listening, but he got the main points. "She's not going to make it, Son." "Probably won't last the night." "..says she understands…. has a will…"

"Do you understand?" the doctor asked, sounding worried about Scipio. The boy was shivering violently and his knee had started to bleed. Scipio nodded numbly. Then the doctor said something about getting Scipio cleaned up, but Scipio still wasn't listening.

When the doctor left the room, Scipio limped closer to his mother. She smiled and offered her hand to him. He took it. Even he could see the way his hand was shaking… but he wasn't even feeling the cold. He only knew how his heart was beating like it would burst.

"Scipio," his mother murmured. "You're shaking… Did you run here in this storm?"

"Mom," Scipio whimpered out, his eyes swimming again.

"It's okay, Scipio," she assured him in her tired voice. "Everyone has to go sometime… I guess my time is now… I uh… haven't told them to call you father… I'll need you to tell him."

"No," Scipio growled out through his tears.

"Scipio, this is important…. I've left everything to you. Everything that is mine, including everything I left at your father's house… it's all yours now," his mother explained. "You have plenty of money to pay the maids and the house payments until you go back to Italy… Can you do that for me?"

Scipio shook his head as he fell to his knees. He pulled his mother's hand to his forehead and let the first tears escape his eyes.

"Mom, don't do this," he begged.

"Scipio… Prosper will forgive you for leaving… He never held it against you… I promise… he'll still love you," Miss Massimo breathed out. "Brotherly… Romantically… He loves you. I could see it… in his eyes."

"Mom, please….," Scipio's voice sounded foreign and pathetic, even to himself. He squeezed his mother's hand and she squeezed his back.

"I love you too… Scipio, I love you so much," she said, regaining some of her voice. Scipio just cried there, sitting by her bed and holding her hand.

She didn't speak again for a long while. Scipio didn't know how long he sat there before she fell to sleep, unable to keep herself conscious anymore. A short while later, he knew the nurse's came in because he had a temporary set of clothes to wear and a towel to dry off with. They also helped bandage his knee and elbow. Then Scipio sat in the chair by the window, only five feet from his mother's bed. He watched the rain and tried to keep from crying. Soon, he couldn't take it and closed the blinds.

His mother was dying. In a moment of relaxed reverence, Scipio remembered a time that seemed so long ago. A dark night with crickets chirping, a muted study, a lamp illuminating a tear stained letter and a crying teenage boy. How long had it been since he'd been in that room, comforting Prosper? Now Scipio was living the same thing Prosper had learned about through an impersonal letter… He wondered if Prosper had ever found out what his mother had left him in her will… or how Prosper was handling without him.

Scipio hadn't received a single letter from his siblings. Not one. He'd sent one, but after he got no reply to it, he'd stopped. Had they all forgotten him? Had they forgot the promise to send letters everyday?... at least every week. Not a single letter in a year and a half. Not even Prosper?... Why?

"Scipio."

The raven haired teen turned to his mother. He'd thought he heard her say his name, but she was sleeping soundly. Then, suddenly and without warning, the heart monitor began to drone out a long and resounding note. Scipio's heart rate sped and his eyes widened.

"Mom?" he exclaimed, jumping from his seat to grab her hand. "Mom?!" He shook her but she did not respond. The heart monitor continued to drown out his hearing with its loud beep.

Nurses rushed into the room and made Scipio leave. He was in the way, they said. Scipio stumbled into the hallway. Others visitors looked down the hall as if it would reveal which patient was dying. Still, most were sleeping and took no notice. Scipio saw an open window at the end of the hall. He stumbled down to it, his brain a fuzz of static and heart monitor beeps.

The window was clear and had no curtains. Outside it, Scipio saw the rain had died down. A cloud moved to reveal the moon. Scipio's chest felt squeezed. He gently, slowly, placed his hand against the window. The last time he'd felt bad, Prosper had been there for him… to comfort him and make him feel better… This time, the sadness was even worse. It was all encompassing. Scipio was finding it hard to breathe through it all.

If his mother died… and the orphans had forgotten him… what was Scipio even doing? What would he do after the three years?... Everything would be gone. A dangerous thought crossed Scipio's mind just then. Suddenly a voice, no a memory entered Scipio consciousness. It took no concentration to hold onto this memory and to hear that voice.

"_You are not allowed to try to kill or harm yourself on purpose for any reason," _Prosper's voice echoed back from that small memory. Scipio smiled sadly out at the night. Then he closed his eyes and leaned his head against the glass.

"_If that is what you wish."_ His own voice answered Prosper in the memory. Scipio felt his heart beat heavily. Every beat was a workout, it was hard and it hurt.

The beeping from his mother's room stopped abruptly, but no steady rhythm replaced it. Scipio pressed his lips together in a tight line, like his father often did when he heard news he didn't want to hear. Then a hand set on Scipio's shoulder. A nurse apologized to him, but he shook her off. He distantly heard himself tell her that he wanted to be alone for a while. She complied and Scipio was left by himself again. He tried to grip the window, but it was flat and cold.

'Prosper….Prosper what do I do now?' he asked. 'Why… why haven't you sent me anything?'

"Prosper…," he cried out loud, voice trembling. Then a sob escaped his lips and he cried once again, leaning on that window and all alone in the hallway.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Scipio took a deep breath as he awoke from his slumber. A sweet woman's voice was talking to him through a speaker above him; something about planes landing in half an hour. He groaned and stretched. His back felt stiff and his legs felt cramped. When his feet pushed into something solid, he opened his eyes and looked around. He was sitting in a comfortable seat… on what appeared to be an airplane. The chairs were peach in color. The walls were off-white. There was a tv in front of him, but it was muted. He looked out his window and saw only ocean stretching as far as the eye could see.

Scipio pulled a letter out of his carry-on bag. The front read 'So I thought I'd get you some hunky man for your birthday' with a really hot male model pictured. The inside said 'Sadly, all I could afford was this card. Happy Birthday!' and a smiley face. Under that, written in pen was 'Happy 19th birthday, Scipio! Have a safe flight! Don't forget to write!' and it was signed by a girl named Emily and her boyfriend Max.

Without Emily, Scipio didn't think he could've made it through living on his own. With her and Max, Scipio had found ways to deal with his mother's death and to live properly. They helped him learn how to pay bills by asking their own parents. They took him out every once in a while to make sure he didn't lose touch with reality and society. It hadn't taken long for Emily to discover Scipio wasn't interested in women and he easily told her he had someone waiting for him in Italy. Max thought Scipio was cool, plain and simple. Emily thought he was cool and absolutely adored his accent. They were an awesome support group to draw energy from when he felt down… but nothing would ever compare to the way Prosper made him feel or the way Prosper could cheer him up.

In fact, every year he'd been away, Scipio had Oreos and milk on the day he'd had them with Prosper as though he were celebrating an anniversary. Three anniversaries later, here he was on a plane. Soon he would land and make his way to his old home.

Soon he could see land outside his window. Then the plane began to descend. When the plane finally landed, Scipio couldn't wait to get off. One thing he hated was the speed of airports; aka, slow. Through all the waiting and all the way to his house, Scipio began to smile and could not stop. He was home! Soon he would see all his siblings, and he would see Prosper! Suddenly, he had a thought as to why he never got any letters from them. Knowing his father, the letters had been intercepted and never mailed. Well that was alright. Scipio would tell them all about America now that he was back.

He was let into the house by a maid who nearly fainted when she saw him. He smiled a warm greeting at her and pulled his bags inside. Now Scipio could've let himself in, but he didn't have any hands to get to his key and he may have accidentally, on purpose thrown his key into the Atlantic Ocean at some point.

"Are my brothers and sister here?" Scipio asked as the maid helped him set everything down in the entryway.

"Of course. Shall I fetch them for you?" she asked.

"Yes, thank you," Scipio replied, setting down his last bag, his shoulder carry-on.

It didn't take long to get the orphans down. They'd heard the door opening and were curiously poking their heads around the corner anyway. Scipio expected them to rush to him and envelope him in hugs. Instead, he got Riccio running to him and punching him in the chest. The others rushed down the stairs but kept their distance. Each face held a different level of contempt or betrayal.

"Ow, Riccio! What on Earth was that for?" Scipio barked, rubbing his chest.

"That was for being a jerk! How dare you come back here after what you've done!" Riccio exclaimed, going to hit Scipio again but was held back by Hornet at the last minute.

"What are you talking about? I haven't done anything," Scipio replied, confused beyond compare. Why were they all looking at him like he'd killed a kitten right before their eyes?

"Exactly," Bo's younger voice spoke up. He was only 13, but his voice had already begun to change out of his sweet child's voice. "You didn't do anything to help Prosper… even though we mailed you letters all the time."

"Help Prosper?"Scipio asked, voice slightly airy.

"That's right! But you don't really care, do you? You're all grown up and don't have to worry about us at all, right?!" Riccio accused, struggling to get free from Mosca and Hornet. Scipio grabbed the boy so firmly by the shoulders, so suddenly, that Riccio stopped moving entirely. The oldest Massimo child gave Riccio a stare that could kill if he put a little more anger into it.

"Riccio, what happened to Prosper?" Scipio asked, voice heavy and serious. It sounded more like his father this way, but he wanted an answer. What had he not known? Why did he need to help Prosper?

The orphans were silent though. No one answered his question. They just watched him with startled eyes. Then Hornet's fingers slid down Riccio's arms and she gasped softly.

"You never got our letters, did you?" she asked quietly. Scipio shook his head and moved his gaze to her. "Not even one?" Scipio shook his head again.

"What happened to Prosper?" he asked again. Bo stepped forward and put a hand on Scipio's arm in a similar fashion to how Prosper might have if he was here.

"Your father sent him back to the orphanage… right after you left for the airport," the young blonde revealed. "According to the only letter we ever got from him… it was to save us from being sent back as well. He didn't say much about it though. But he wanted us to know he still loved us."

Scipio's blood felt cold. His body felt like stone. Prosper had been sent back to the orphanage... three years ago?! Scipio's eyes narrowed, and though he was looking in their direction the children knew he wasn't glaring at them.

"Don't follow me," he ordered coldly. Then he released Riccio and walked away toward the East wing of the house. He strode like he was floating, and though his body said he was calm, they all knew he was upset.

Despite his order, they all followed him. Scipio opened his father's study and quietly closed the door behind him. Signore Massimo looked up from his work to inquire who had decided to disturb him. He only looked mildly shocked to see his son there.

"Ah. Has it already been three years?" he asked in a bored tone, looking back at his papers.

"You sent Prosper back to the orphanage," Scipio accused in eerily calm voice.

"Yes. The boy wanted to go, so I let him," his father explained. Scipio's eyes narrowed at his father.

"You threatened him," he corrected. "You threatened him, and you threatened me. Father-"

"Hm?" Signore Massimo turned to his son. That's when he first seemed surprised. Scipio was standing tall and dark in the doorway, a serious look on his face. All signs of childishness were gone from his features as it was. That had been the masked goal of sending him to America, but the effect standing before him nearly scared him.

"I'm leaving this house, and I'm taking the others with me. I'm also taking all of mom's stuff. Then I'm going to go find Prosper. When I leave this house with all my things, I will not come back… not ever," Scipio promised in an almost threatening way. "I will not forgive you."

Scipio turned to the door, but as soon as his hand hit the doorknob, his father stood up from his desk. The study was bright, but it seemed dark to them.

"Who do you think you are? You can't touch your mother's belongings. They stay here," his father growled gently. Scipio cast a hateful stare over his shoulder.

"Mom is dead. Has been for two years," Scipio said. He pulled a paper from his pocket and tossed it toward his father. "Check it. Her will says all of it belongs to me. Goodbye."

Then he left, his father holding the will like a feather. Scipio hoped he'd been right when he thought he saw guilt on his father's face. Then Scipio stepped into the hall and strode quickly down it, back toward his things. The orphans were scrambling around a corner when he got to the end of the hall. Scipio couldn't help it. Despite his fear of not being able to find Prosper anymore, he smiled.

"I thought I told you guys to stay in the entrance hall," he teased. Several nervous laughs met him. "It's alright. Go pack your things. We're leaving."

Most of them beamed up at him and quickly hurried toward the stairs, but Bo didn't move. Hornet stopped at the bottom of the stairs, Riccio and Mosca stopping a few steps up to look back at her. Hornet smiled broadly and waved at Bo.

"Come on!" she exclaimed. Bo looked worriedly at Scipio.

"What about Prop?" he asked. Scipio smiled and ruffled his hair.

"We're going to find him," he promised. Bo beamed at him and hurried over to Hornet. With one last smile at Scipio, he ran up the stairs with the others to pack. Scipio smiled too. As soon as they all disappeared around the corner, Scipio frowned. He walked to the front door and opened it. Just outside it, he remembered where Prosper had been standing the day he left. Prosper probably had known of his fate by then…. Why hadn't he said anything?

Scipio frowned deeper. He'd thought it, hadn't he? He'd known Prosper was trying to tell him something with his eyes… but he hadn't asked. Then Scipio looked out at the drive. That was it. He was going to find Prosper and bring him home.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Scipio stepped down into the streets of Venice. He looked up into the sky and took a deep breath. He tugged down on his sleeves to guard himself from the chilly wind that was rushing through the city. Today, Scipio was visiting the Merciful Sisters. Yesterday he'd bought a house. He and his 'siblings' got unpacked and settled in. Scipio had chosen the biggest room, but not bigger by much. On his bedside table, which Scipio had brought from America, set a picture frame. Inside that frame was a group photo of all the children of the Casa Massimo. Beside that frame, facing Scipio's bed, was a smaller picture. In it were two young teens. They were leaning their heads against each other and smiling at the camera, which seemed to be in the hand on the darker haired one. This was Scipio's favorite picture of Prosper and himself. It was the most recent.

Ten years. Ten years, he'd known Prosper. Seven years were spent in the same house. Three unknowing years were spent separated. Out on the sunny streets, in the open air, those three years seemed trivial. He remembered his mother's promise, the one that said Prosper would always love him. He felt like it was possible in the light of the day. Even though he'd returned almost half a year behind schedule, Scipio was certain right now that he could rescue Prosper from the orphanage… if he was still there. Prosper was 18 now. He could leave that orphanage whenever he wanted.

The doors to the Merciful Sisters were large, but not as large as the Casa Massimo's doors. They were black, just as were the Casa Massimo's. Inside was very different. The walls were plain plaster. The floor was tiled, but not with real marble. The pillars were marble, matching the floor. These seemed to be real. The furniture was entirely made of donations of tables and couches and ordinary wood, a stark contrast from the Casa Massimo's grandeur.

"How may I help you?" a sister asked.

"Ah, yes. My name is Scipio Massimo. I was wondering if you could possibly point me in the right direction to find one of your orphans," the raven haired man explained.

"Massimo! Oh, yes sir. Of course. Please, step right this way," she said, leading him to a filing cabinet. "Which child are you in interested in?"

"Well he is hardly a child anymore, sister. I'm looking for a boy named Prosper. My father brought him back here about three years ago," Scipio said. The woman nodded. Then she gasped in awe as she seemed to remember something.

"Oh! Prosper! Such a dear boy! I know who you're talking about. Yes your father assured us he was magnificent, and he really was. Truly. Everyone loved Prosper," she said in joy at the memories.

"Loved? As in past tense?" Scipio asked, a knot building in his throat. The sister nodded.

"Yes. Only a short time after he arrived, one of our most valuable friends arrived and took him home with her. Oh! But don't worry!" she said, noticing the strife on Scipio's face. "He's in a good home. Signora Spavento is a wonderfully kind woman! If you want her address, I could write it down for you."

"Yes, thank you," Scipio said, regaining control of his expression. "That would be ever so helpful."

After he received the address, Scipio thanked the woman profusely and made his way back into the sunny day. Prosper had been adopted. Well, at least he hadn't left on his own. Now there was at least a chance he could find him. The orphanage didn't keep tabs on their children once they grew up and left, but an adoptive mother would know where Prosper was even if he moved out… unless he ran away, but the sister had said Signora Spavento was a wonderful lady. Besides, Prosper wasn't the type to run away.

Scipio searched the houses on the Campo Santa Margherita. After only a short while, he found the house with the right number. The name plate on the door read 'Spavento.' Scipio smiled. This was the house. He rang the bell… but no one answered. He tried again. Several minutes passed, but no one came to the door.

Scipio decided to look around, see if there was some backyard where someone could be and not hear the bell. He strolled around the corner to a dark side alley. The wall around the Casa Spavento was high and revealed nothing. The house was entirely surrounded save for an iron gate that opened to the canal in the back. A small four inch wide gap ran along the canal. Scipio took a moment to weigh the options. Sidle down the canal like a cat or give up and try the bell one more time?

It had been years since Scipio was the nimble young master of the Casa Massimo who could sneak through a barely cracked open door. This would be sort of the same thing, cept this 'door' was much longer and instead of a doorframe, the only other thing to hit was air… and water.

Scipio pressed against the wall and stepped his first foot out onto the ledge. He frowned and pulled it back to solid ground. No way would he make it. He didn't have a small enough body, the proper balance, or the right grip to make it. He'd be a soaked kitten in seconds with no one around to help him out of the water.

The raven haired male wandered back down the alley and out to the front gate again. He stared at the name plate. This was the right address. Then he let his eyes wander to the house. It was far larger than its gate. The trees around it were tall and green. Some were beginning to die off for the coming winter. The windows were large, the house gigantic. The building could use a new paint job, but it looked fantastic in a beautifully antique way.

Prosper had lived here. This was the sort of house Prosper would have loved. It must have been fate that he was adopted by Signora Spavento, whose house was this beautiful. Scipio ran his hand lightly down the stone wall, but his fingers paused just above the bell. He wanted to ring it again, but what if no one came to the door? Would he have to wait out here all day until they came back?

"If you're looking for the Signora, you won't find her," a man's voice called. Scipio jumped in shock. When he turned, it was her next door neighbor.

"Ah. Do you know when she'll return?" Scipio asked. The man shrugged.

"Said something about vacation. She's visiting family in Paris this week, before it freezes over," he revealed. Scipio frowned.

"And…. And what about her son?" Scipio inquired, going out on a dare to say the man would even know about Prosper.

"Her son?" the man asked, seeming surprised. He put his finger to his lips. "Well, I think he died."

"Died?" Scipio's throat felt tight, his question squeaked. The man nodded.

"Yes. It was very sad. He was out visiting a friend on the lagoon when he was hit by another boat. The other young man managed to get away in time, but the young Spavento and the person who'd run into him died when their boats exploded… Actually, according to the doctors, the Signora's son died upon impact. That gave her some comfort, honestly. She was glad to know he hadn't suffered for long…. Did you know him?" the man asked.

Scipio swallowed the lump in his throat and shook his head to clear the onslaught of tears. Then he nodded. He tried twice before he got any words out.

"W-when?" Scipio asked. "When did it happen?" The neighbor paused to consider it for a moment. He scratched his chin and then nodded. He was frowning.

"I'm pretty sure it was almost three years ago… but I'm getting old and my memory isn't what it used to be," he explained. Scipio lowered his head, his eyes hidden by his bangs. Prosper… was dead?

This couldn't be happening! First his mother and now Prosper? Scipio let out a forced thank you and started to walk. He felt like he'd been shot. Prosper was dead. Why was the world so cruel sometimes? Prosper… Prosper didn't deserve that kind of an ending.

"Hey, sir," the neighbor called out to get his attention again. "The young man who had been on the boat with him lives over by the fish market. He works for a local fisherman, named Getz. I don't know if you'll want to, but he was the last one to see the Signora's son alive. They were real close, so you'll probably get a better recap of the events from him. He's got this short, scruffy hair. I can't recall his name, but if you ask Getz which one he is, he can point you in the right direction. It's something similar to Spavento, but… well anyway, sorry to give you such bad news."

Scipio nodded. He took a deep breath. "It's alright… I think I'll go see him."

"Good luck," the man said and then disappeared into his house.

Scipio took a shaky breath. Prosper was dead… Without meaning to, he began to cry. Before the neighbors could notice, he quickly slid into the Casa Spavento's alley. There he stayed and cried. He cried harder than he could ever remember crying, even worse than when his mom died… because now there wasn't even a memory to comfort him. There was no fantastic idea of a person far away who might make it all better… cause that person was dead too.

"God, Prosper," Scipio sobbed. Once again, he was alone…


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

The fish market was a cold place. There was tons of ice all around and the winter was fast approaching. Plenty of fishermen were putting out new catches as they came in. Boxes were being shuffled around. Prospective buyers mulled around and haggled with shopkeepers. There was much hustle and bustle and living. Standing on the edge of the ocean, Scipio felt as though one death never really mattered. When his mom had died, the servants had moved on quickly… because they were still getting paid, so what did it matter? Some of them were distraught; they all loved his mom… but they all eventually got over it.

Now Prosper was dead. He'd died right here, right out there on this very lagoon, and yet no one seemed the wiser. Sure, it had happened three years prior, but to Scipio it was brand new… as though it had happened just yesterday. Scipio shook his head. No, he had to stop thinking like that or he'd go home tonight and worry the others.

Honestly, he hadn't even planned on actually coming to the market. He didn't really want to think about Prosper anymore, however impossible the idea was, but this guy had been the last person to associate with Prosper. The man had said they had been 'close'. It was Scipio's last chance to find out how Prosper had lived, how he was dealing with going back to the orphanage, the way he felt about everything… and maybe even about Scipio. However, Scipio wasn't sure if Prosper would admit to liking a guy to a friend. After all, he'd never told Scipio…. Well, Scipio still didn't know if Prosper had actually loved him like that, but if he had then… well…

"Excuse me. I'm looking for a man by the name of Getz," Scipio told a shop keeper. The man laughed and nodded. He said he knew the guy and pointed Scipio down the pier. Boat like a tortoise box, he'd said.

Scipio meandered down the pier, watching all the people but mostly listening to the waves as they sloshed up against the manmade boardwalk. He hadn't thought the directions were very good, but when he spotted the boat he thought differently. The boat really did look like a tortoise box. It was rather lame, actually. It was wooden and looked like it might collapse any second. There was a man kneeling next to it, making repairs.

"Nice boat," he said. "Are you Signore Getz?"

"If I haven't gone crazy, I am. But this facade might be the death of me," the man grunted as he tightened a bolt on the wood.

"Façade?" Scipio asked, walking closer. Ah. Scipio could see it now. Through all the wood, through the cracks, Scipio could see the real masterpiece of a ship shining through. So the boat wasn't as dinky as everyone thought. It was hiding behind a disguise.

"Nice," he commented. "Very nice."

"Thank you, sir," Signore Getz said, standing up to greet his guest. "Victor Getz, fisherman of fine fish, at your service. How may I help you?"

He held out his hand. Scipio shook it and nodded.

"Scipio Massimo… I'm uh… looking for the boy who survived the Spavento boat wreck three years ago," he said.

"Massimo. Now that does sound familiar… oh well. Anyway, the boy you're looking for is over there in the stands. He's putting fish out on display if he's not giving the guppies away to the homeless children. Name is Spavento," Victor explained, rolling his eyes and murmuring about wasting fish they could be selling.

"Spavento? Signore, did I hear that right? I thought Spavento was the name of the boy who died," Scipio said. Victor nodded.

"Yes it was. Poor boy… died, and he was only 15. Yes, anyway. The boy you're looking for is also named Spavento. They were related…Didn't you know?" Victor asked. Scipio shook his head. "Yeah. Signora Ida had a son before she thought about adopting. When she lost one of her sons, she was awfully distraught. Took me and the other one weeks to calm her down… poor woman… and her husband died a month later," Signore Getz murmured. Victor was having a moment, lost in his sad thoughts. Scipio decided to leave him to it. He had enough sad thoughts without adding the Sigora's to it all.

So Prosper had gotten another sibling in the move. No wonder they had been so close. Scipio frowned. Well, maybe Prosper had taken advantage of that brotherly bond. They must have only known each other for a few short months, but it was enough for Scipio… just to hear Prosper's last moments on Earth.

"I'm looking for Spavento!" Scipio called out, standing by the shop. No one answered. It seemed the Spaventos had a thing for not answering to their names. Scipio sighed. He ran a hand through his short bangs before slipping his hands into his jacket pockets. They were cold. He let out a slow breath, watching it appear before him.

"Hello?" he tried again when his foggy breath had dissipated.

"One minute, please!" an unfamiliar voice called out. That must be Signora Spavento's son. He sounded… tall, if that was even possible.

Scipio heard some children giggling and the older male's voice telling them to be quiet, though he was laughing too. Scipio narrowed his eyes in confusion. Without being told he could, he slipped around behind the booth. Back through boxes of iced fish, he shivered as he walked. The voice hadn't sounded too far away, and there was a light at the back.

The first thing Scipio saw was a tall teen, probably no older than himself, and some kids. Then he watched and it changed into two homeless children, probably orphans too… just like Prosper. They were giggling as the older male made a small fish talk in a weird watery voice and give them each a kiss on the cheek.

"You two promise not to feed me to the rats? Please! I hate rats!" the fish cried dramatically. The two children, a boy and a girl, giggled hysterically. They couldn't be more than 10.

"We promise!" the girl exclaimed.

"But _we_ can eat you, right?" the little boy asked with the cutest chuckle a child could give… except maybe Bo. Oh Bo... how would he take the news of his brother's death?

"Of course you two can eat me!" the fish replied. "I want to help you two grow big and strong. Us magical fish can do that, you know."

"Magic?!" the girl squealed. The fish nodded.

"Of course! How else do you think us fish live underwater? Now you better take me home and cook me before all the magic is gone!" the fish exclaimed. Then the young Spavento laughed.

It was a calming laugh. It was a smooth laugh. The children thanked him in their cute, high pitched voices, and hurriedly carried the fish, and two others, home in a little basket. Scipio smiled sadly. It was such a cute scene. If only all homeless children had someone to do that for them. Signore Getz had said it in a displeased way, but the way he sighed and didn't try to stop the acts, Scipio suspected the man actually liked that his worker was giving away fish.

"Signore Spavento?" Scipio asked.

"Oh please. You make me sound so old," the teen laughed. He was watching the children run. He stood up and rubbed his hands on his worker's apron. "Yes, that's me. Can I help you?"

He turned around and Scipio got the first glimpse of his face. The son of Ida Spavento was tall, but not quite as tall as Scipio. He had blue eyes and brown hair, and it was short and scruffy just as the neighbor had said. He looked fit. He had a nice build. He was handsome, attractive. His facial structure made Scipio's heart ache. Then he saw the other teen's eyebrows raise in a bit of surprise. The young Spavento smiled broadly, and Scipio's chest ached so badly, he wanted to cry… but he didn't.

"…Prosper?" he asked softly. The shopkeeper let out one of his calming, smooth laughs.

"Damn, you're slow," he said. "Do you have any idea what month it is?"

"Forty-one months, seven days… I'm five and a half months late… I'm sorry," Scipio nearly whimpered, but managed to keep himself calm. Prosper's smile turned warm.

"Welcome home."

* * *

A/N: Okay, so you caught me. :P I didn't kill him.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

The next few minutes were something of a blur. It all happened in such a rush. Prosper's words kept ringing in Scipio's mind, but all Scipio could see was the white of Prosper's shirt. He didn't remember exactly when he'd leapt that short distance between them to bring Prosper into his arms. He just knew that now he was holding him, hugging him, embracing him. He could feel Prosper breathing; he could feel the sturdiness of his body. Scipio took in several deep breaths of Prosper's scent, but it was mostly breathing to calm himself.

"Oh god, I thought you were dead," Scipio breathed out.

"Dead?" Prosper asked. "Why would you think that?"

"… You were adopted by Ida Spavento… who's 15 year old son died in a boat accident shortly after your adoption. I thought it was…. I thought it was you!" Scipio cried without tears. The way Prosper's arms tightened around him made his chest swell in the immense relief and love he felt in this moment.

"No… I'm alive. It's alright, Scip. I wouldn't leave you that easy," Prosper promised. He gave Scipio a briefly tighter squeeze and made them part about a foot so they could look at each other. "Wow… You've grown, Scip."

"Me?" Scipio asked. He cleared his throat to rid his voice of any imagined tears. "Look at you, Prop! You grew like two feet and your voice is so different… I didn't even recognize you! And your hair!"

"I had to cut it," Prosper laughed. "All those curls got in the way on windy days. And look at you! You're even taller than I am! And may I say… extremely handsome. You grew up well… and if I squint, I can even see some of your father in you."

Scipio laughed at the tease. He looked so much like his father it was like he'd been cloned, but he'd gotten plenty of his mother's features… but they weren't as obvious. The roundness of his face, softer than his father's, was from his mom. He had the features of his father, but they were down played by the features of his mother. Prosper really liked it. Scipio was hot. Yet, on the other side of the examination, Scipio was thinking the same thing about Prosper. The orphan had grown up so well, and he had definitely been lifting some heavy stuff because even through his shirt you could see his toned body. Scipio was almost jealous, but at the same time… it was the same Prosper, the one that would stick by his side through anything… and that meant that he didn't have to be jealous. The person inhabiting that body was just another part of himself, so it was sort of like that body was Scipio's anyway… in a weird way.

"How long have you been back?" Prosper asked, slipping his hand into Scipio's and pulling him to the chairs he and Victor used on breaks.

"Only two days," Scipio admitted. "I went home first, but the others wouldn't let me stay. I went to see my father and told him I was leaving and never coming back once I got all of my stuff and my mom's stuff out of the house. Then I packed up the others and bought a house. They're all there unpacking and picking out your room and having a fun time."

"Wow… All that in two days? Sorry I missed it. How did your father take it?" Prosper asked, noting how Scipio hadn't pulled his hand away even though they were sitting already.

"Well he was rather livid, as I expected, but I think the malice died down when I told him mother died, and I didn't stick around to watch after that," Scipio said. Prosper frowned.

"You mom died?" Prosper asked softly. He truly sounded grieved, and Scipio frowned suddenly. He remembered when she died and how he'd cried… but he'd stopped crying then because he'd craved Prosper's words so much. He'd wanted Prosper to tell him it was all okay and to comfort him, but Prosper hadn't been there. He remembered thinking he'd wait to cry until Prosper was around, but now he found no tears waiting… even as he remembered her death, he did not want to cry. Maybe it was the way Prosper was here, alive, and holding his hand. All Scipio knew was that he didn't want Prosper to be like the others who'd comforted him, who'd asked him how and why and what now.

"That's sad… I wish I could have seen her once more. I never even got to tell her….," Prosper's voice faded out and he had a distant look in his eyes. Scipio put his other hand overtop Prosper's so that he was holding the hand between the two of his.

"Tell her?" Scipio urged gently. Prosper sighed and looked down at the hands.

"I told myself that if she ever came back… I was going to tell her I loved her… and call her 'mom' at least once. I wanted to say it before you guys left, but I was scared I would break down and tell you I was going back to the orphanage if I did," Prosper admitted. He looked torn, and he was. He would never get a chance to call her mom like she'd always wanted… and that was a heavy weight on his chest.

"Why _didn't_ you tell us?" Scipio asked. "And what exactly happened? Bo said father kicked you out. Father said you'd wanted to go. What's the real story?" He had to distract Prosper from his melancholy thoughts.

"…. It happened after you went to bed. Your father came in and told me he was sending everyone away after you left, but I knew what would happen if he sent us all back. We'd all be picked up by random families and lose each other. I didn't want you to come home to an empty house, and I didn't want the others back in the orphanages or on the streets… So I traded my life and best chance to see you again so that they could stay. But look what happened," Prosper said with a smile. "I got to see you again anyway."

"Yeah… It was a short detour," Scipio laughed. "But now that I've found you, Prosper I need to talk seriously with you." And the young Massimo looked the part. Prosper's smile faded a little and he looked seriously back at Scipio.

"Alright," he agreed. "What's wrong?" Scipio shook his head.

"Nothing's wrong," he said. "I-."

"Excuse me!" a voice called. Scipio froze. Prosper's eyes widened and he jumped up. A customer! He gave Scipio a short 'Sorry' smile before he went to see who it was.

Scipio clenched his fists. He missed the warmth of Prosper's hands and he was upset that someone, even a complete stranger, would interrupt them right when he was about to confess! He leaned over to watch Prosper deal with the customer, but he ended up staring at Prosper's ass the whole time. Prosper put a hand behind his back, resting against his lower back and upper butt. It was the hand Scipio had been holding, and Prosper kept closing it like he was trying to get a grip on something.

Luckily, Prosper didn't have to touch any fish with this customer. He gave her the information she wanted, she picked up her own fish, paid, and she was gone. He never used his hand and it stayed there behind his back. Prosper shifted and Scipio was too busy watching his butt and the way his pants moved to concentrate on why. Then Prosper let his hand drop to his side and turned around. Scipio's eyes snapped up to Prosper's face before the other could see where he was looking.

"So-," Prosper called as he walked back in that direction. "Where were we?"

Scipio didn't talk at first. He watched Prosper's face. He watched how Prosper licked his lips in nervousness and then smiled. Same old Prop.

"Do you remember when we were younger… and father used to always get upset because we'd tracked mud in or broken something, and we always swore it would never happen again?" Scipio finally asked.

"Yeah. What about it?" Prosper asked, stopping by the seat but not sitting.

"He always used to say actions speak louder than words… so…," Scipio trailed off as he stood. He looked Prosper in the eyes. Then he blushed and looked at the floor. He ran a hand through his hair in his nervousness.

"Scip?" Prosper asked, putting a hand on Scipio's shoulder. Scipio was about to reply but Prosper's other hand came up and held his chin. Then he was forced to look back up into Prosper's eyes. "Scip?"

The question didn't sound the same. The first one seemed unsure, worried for Scipio. This new one seemed unsure as in not sure if the meaning of Scipio's actions were being interpreted right. It was a suggestive question. Prosper let his pointer finger moved up Scipio's cheek, brushing it ever so smoothly. The young Massimo found it a little hard to breathe. This was the sort of thing he'd done to Prosper years earlier when the other had been sleeping. These gentle touches… Did they mean Prosper really did love him?

"Prosper," Scipio breathed like the name was salvation. Then he moved quickly, grabbing Prosper's face between his hands and kissing him right on the lips. Prosper's fingers jumped and lost their place on Scipio's face, but the one on his shoulder didn't move. Scipio pulled back before Prosper even had a chance to respond.

"Mother made me promise to tell you that I loved you when I got back," he said in a speedy whisper. "So I've told you."

Prosper smiled. Scipio was blushing. How cute. Then the adopted son of Spavento leaned in and set his forehead against Scipio's. He chuckled that smooth, calming laugh, and Scipio let out a relieved breath.

"Isn't kissing a bit much on the first date?" Prosper asked teasingly. Scipio's chest felt swollen and he laughed too.

"This isn't a date. I just died!" he exclaimed dramatically. Prosper laughed at that. He wrapped his arms around Scipio and felt the other return the gesture. They stood like that, laughing softly, until Victor Getz came to see what had happened to the young man who'd come to find Prosper. When he saw them, he cleared his throat loudly, and they both blushed and pulled apart. Victor muttered something about teenagers and rolled his eyes. Scipio laughed and Prosper said they weren't teenagers. They were adults.

"Either way! Now don't take up work time with your displays of affection, Prosper! Man the shop!" Victor ordered, ending the conversation. He walked past them to the back muttering something about 'the lucky one' – the meaning of Prosper's name.

Scipio hung around the shop until Prosper was off. He had nothing to do most of the time, so he mostly watched Prosper work… or watched the way his body moved. Once or twice, Victor had him help move something. Apparently he looked too stagnant just sitting there… staring at Prosper. And that was how the day went from morning to evening.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Scipio waited until Prosper got off from work. Then Prosper led Scipio to a small café. Scipio hardly remembered the place, but Prosper apparently came there every week. They talked for a long time over coffee and small breads – all bought by Scipio of course. They talked about their dear mother's death, about Scipio's times and friends in America… about Prosper's life with Ida Spavento and the death of her son only a month after he'd come to live with her. She'd apparently adopted because her son was a lonely child and very shy… so she'd gone to find him a friend of the same age who might be able to understand him and get him to be more open. Prosper had him half way better when the accident happened.

As he told it, they'd both been out on the boat. They were talking about school and life in general, just cruising. Then some older kids from school spotted them and decided to rough them up. It all went downhill, according to Prosper. The boats collided and exploded. Shrapnel went everywhere in the water. Ida's son had seen the boat coming and, in a rush of courageous brotherly affection, had shoved Prosper off the boat. Actually, according to Prosper it was more of being 'thrown' off instead of 'shoved' off. He landed in the water several feet away. He was under the water when they collided, and even when they exploded, which all happened very fast. When he'd surfaced, they had just caught fire. Shrapnel had flown off and cut his face and right shoulder. A larger piece had broken Prosper's left foot as he'd tried to swim out of the way.

He'd barely managed to swim 10 feet when the police and medical boats showed up. They rescued him from the water, blood dripping from his wounds because the water had thinned it. The young Spavento was gone, as were the bullies, but Prosper had survived. After quite awhile, all his injuries had healed but it took almost a year and a half for him to be convinced it wasn't his fault the others had died. Then Prosper just focused on the idea that it was glorious that he was still alive to see Scipio one day.

At the end of the story, Prosper pulled up his sleeve to show the large scar across his shoulder from the cut he got. Scipio fretted over it for a moment in which Prosper let him feel the shocked and worried emotions he should have felt when it first happened, but then he reminded Scipio that the scar was three years old. It was definitely worth it to see Scipio all flustered with worry and then with shocked embarrassment. Prosper sat across from him in a happy stupor, a smile fitting nicely across his face.

"Well uh… Well I guess we should go now. We're taking up a table another customer could be using and… well... actually, Prosper, I wanted to ask…," Scipio began, stumbling over how he wanted to say it. Prosper laughed.

"Come on," he said and led Scipio outside. As thought, another customer quickly took their place. Outside, the air was turning chilly and promised a storm, but they'd be safely inside by then. Prosper pulled his coat on and looked at Scipio expectantly. The grown Massimo child ran his fingers nervously through his hair.

"Well I was wondering if you'd consider moving into my new house… you know, with the others and me," he said. Prosper let his shoulders lift and drop, like a shrug or a deep breath.

"Well… My stuff is in the house by the port-," he began but was interrupted.

"Of course. I understand that you'd want to stay near your job and all. It's fine," Scipio said. Prosper laughed out loud.

"Gosh, Scipio. I don't remember you being this easily flustered. Is this what love does to the regal son of Dottore Massimo?" he asked teasingly. "I only meant that it would take some time to move out of Victor's house."

Scipio's face felt hot but he didn't look ashamed. He was confused at first. Then he smiled and put a hand on Prosper's shoulder.

"So you _will_ move in?" he asked. "Oh that's fantastic! Bo will be thrilled! I mean, everyone will be, but Bo will be the most! He's-," and this time it was Scipio's turn to be interrupted.

"Scipio, I think if any of them are more thrilled than you, I might die," Prosper joked. Scipio blushed lightly, but the conversation was over and the points were made.

The sun was setting, so they decided to go to Scipio's house. Prosper would call Victor tonight if the phone was up and working, or he'd go see him tomorrow to tell him the news. For now, they were going to see the others. It had been far too long since they'd seen Prosper.

When Scipio walked in, he set an umbrella to the side. They'd misjudged the storm and had to buy last minute umbrellas from a street merchant. The other orphans rushed for the door before Prosper could properly close his umbrella. The collision of the younger kids into Scipio and therefore into Prosper, sent the umbrella awry. It snapped shut onto Prosper and he was pushed up against the door. He cried out and Scipio quickly pushed the others back. Then Prosper snapped the umbrella back out to free himself and sighed in relief.

He didn't have time to relax though. The others only took a few seconds, about as long as Scipio, to recognize him. They tackled him to the floor and against the door. Bo was there first. Prosper held him securely, protectively in his arms while the others swarmed him with hugs.

"I missed you so much, Prop!" Bo whined into his brother's arm, starting to cry.

"You crying, you silly baby?!" Riccio complained, but the others could see how close to tears he was himself in his joy. They didn't push it, but they did laugh. Bo pouted.

"I'm not a silly baby! I'm thirteen!" he argued. Riccio took a step back in his shock at being challenged.

"Gods, I missed you guys," Prosper breathed out. It truly felt like coming home after a journey that had lasted far too long. Prosper squeezed his brother tightly and buried his face in the other's hair. Scipio's heart felt swollen. It seemed that watching this touching scene was enough for him. He didn't have to be a part of it to enjoy it. He'd helped cause it.

"Ah… Prop… you're squeezing too tight," Bo whined and Prosper was pulled back 10 years to the day they were adopted by Scipio's father. He sighed happily and released his brother.

"Sorry," he apologized, but he didn't look sorry. Scipio got a few hugs as well. Maybe these were apology hugs for hating him for three years, or loving hugs as though those years never happened. Either way, they were warm.

The rest of the evening past quickly, with a fast, very late dinner that Scipio made from a box. Then it was putting everyone to bed, but everyone wanted to sleep in the same room like always, and everyone wanted to have Scipio and Prosper stay around longer so they kept fooling around and messing up the process. Only when Prosper reminded them that they'd still be there in the morning for the 15th time did anyone listen and finally settle down for bed.

"Why aren't you sleepin with us, Prop?" Mosca asked when he noticed Prosper was leaving the room with Scipio. Prosper shrugged.

"I've got my own room, now," he explained. "But don't worry. I'll come sleep with you guys sometimes too if you really want me to."

"Stay with us tonight, Prosper!" Hornet insisted. Riccio was already out cold. Prosper shook his head.

"Nah. I think I have to get used to my new room first. Maybe tomorrow though," he promised. "Good night. Sweet dreams." Then he left the room, closing the door softly.

Scipio was waiting in the hall. He led Prosper down the hall two rooms. He leaned against the room's door and looked at Prosper thoughtfully.

"Your room is the one between mine and theirs. This one here is mine…. So… do you want to sleep in my room tonight?" he asked. Prosper smiled like he may start laughing.

"Sure," he agreed easily, going against what he'd told the others. He'd actually been hoping for this invitation. Somewhere inside him, he was thinking this could all be a dream and he might wake up alone in Victor's spare room… so he wanted to spend more time with Scipio. Odd. He would have thought the desire would be to be with Bo… and there was that desire, but if this was a dream, Prosper already knew where Bo was in the world. He'd snuck sightings of him during school when he was finished with his own schooling and had no work. Bo was safe, but Scipio was still a mystery… so if this was a dream, he wanted to spend it with Scipio.

"When should we tell them?" Scipio's voice brought him out of his stupor. They were in Scipio's room already. It had similar furniture as the last house, but most of that furniture was getting old. The house was still severely in need of furniture in most rooms and food in the kitchen. That being said, Scipio's room looked rather bare. The room was smaller, yet somehow not as filled as it used to be.

"Tell them?" Prosper asked, deciding to sit on the bed since there was no chair. Scipio caught his wandering eyes.

"We're still transferring the furniture and possessions," he explained. "And I meant about _us_… I mean… that's the next step, isn't it? We're supposed to be… _together_, right?" and suddenly Scipio seemed nervous.

Prosper smiled and held his arms up like he wanted a hug. Scipio was hesitant, as though expecting this to be some sort of trick, but he stepped up next to the bed where Prosper was. The Spavento teen grabbed Scipio around the neck and pulled him down gently. When Scipio's nose began to touch his, Prosper smiled devilishly. He let himself fall backwards, pulling Scipio with him. Scipio's eyes widened and he lost balance. Then Scipio was over Prosper on the bed.

Scipio blushed but didn't try to pull away. Prosper smiled encouragingly and planted a kiss on his lips. Scipio was taken back to Prosper's words after their first kiss.

"A kiss? Isn't it a bit early in the relationship for-," he began, but Prosper shook his head and cut him off.

"Second date," he said. This was a date? Prosper cocked a joking grin. "Scip… If you want to tell them, we can tell them tomorrow. Or I was thinking we should wait a while, you know, until we're all settled in and they're going to school and stuff."

"Uh… Okay," was the response. Scipio still seemed a little distracted by the position.

"Scipio," Proser sighed a little and rolled Scipio over so they were laying side by side… sort of. "Do you know what tomorrow is?" he asked.

Scipio thought about it but couldn't seem to find anything special about the day. He looked into Prosper's bright blue eyes and shook his head. Prosper smiled.

"It's our new anniversary. We should stop by my place… because I have Oreos," he explained. Scipio laughed then.

"Have you been eating those calorie packers every year too?" he asked in shock – glorious shock. Prosper nodded.

"I suppose I thought of that day sort of as an anniversary, because I was pretty sure the next morning that it would be the last time I ever saw you," he explained. Scipio stopped laughing. He wrapped his arms around Prosper and held him close.

"Prosper… I promise you, it will never happen again. We will never been separated like that again unless we both mutually hate each other and never want to see each other again," the Massimo child declared. Prosper snorted a little.

"Do you know how often we used to say that?" he asked. "We'd lock ourselves in our rooms after yelling at each other… but then we'd be begging for a truce not half an hour later. We've always been terrible fighters when it came to each other."

Scipio smiled. He hoped it stayed that way. He never wanted to have Prosper hate him, especially never enough to leave him. He wanted Prosper always. Thinking Prosper was dead once was one too many times for Scipio. He couldn't handle that kind of separation again. He held close to Prosper and took a deep breath of his scent.

Prosper held just as close and relaxed against Scipio's body. They weren't entirely on the bed – their feet were hanging off – but it was comfortable. Prosper took a deep breath and sighed.

"Good night, Scipio," he murmured.

"Good night, Prop," Scipio breathed back.

* * *

A/N: And now I'm at the end of the prewritten chapters. But there will be at least one more.


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: Let me just say, it has been a fun time. I greatly enjoyed writing this story for you all. I hope you enjoy this last chapter.

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Chapter 16

The sun shimmered in through the windows of a grand masterpiece of a house. One stain glass window shimmered images of color all over the entry way. The house was silent save for the soft clicking of a fan running in one of the upstairs bedrooms. The backdoor was open to a small walled garden with a gate to the canal behind the house. A large stone table sat off to the side, shaded by an overhanging tree. The wind blew through the branches and made the leaves shiver. The sound carried through the empty house.

The front door's bell jingled. Once. Twice. Finally, a latch opened by the front gate and mail dropped through. Six letters cluttered the ground. The one that landed on top was addressed to Prosper Spavento from The Merciful Sisters Orphanage.

But Prosper was not home today. No one was. But on such a day as this, why would any of them be home?

Keys jingled in the lock and the front gate opened. Scipio, looking several years older than when he'd returned, stepped in and on the letters. He jumped back and reached down for the parcels. He shut the gate behind him and strolled inside, setting the letters on the kitchen table.

The growing Massimo male reached into a cabinet with a tender smile and pulled out a present wrapped in silver and blue paper. He set the gift on the counter and there his eyes drifted to the mail. Scipio made an interested noise and lifted the top letter. A letter to Prosper from the orphanage? Had they realized the date?

Scipio grabbed the letter and present. Then he strolled outside and relocked the front gate. With hurried footsteps, he made his way through the streets. Scipio looked down at the package in his hand and smiled. It had been three years that he'd spent in America away from Prosper. He found the wrapped gift to be slightly ironic in that, three years after returning, this is what he got Prosper as a gift.

Wow. Six years. Had time really flown so fast? Had he really known Prosper for 13 years? Scipio let out a reverent sigh. Prosper… He was aging well. In Scipio's opinion at least, Prosper got more handsome every day.

Scipio turned the corner around an older building and his smile grew. Ida Spavento's house. Even from here, the sounds of a party could be heard.

"Welcome back, Signore Massimo!" the old neighbor man called out when he spotted Scipio. The raven haired man waved to the old man and slipped inside the gate to the Casa Spavento.

"Prosper! Prosper, open my present first!"

"No, no! You have to open mine first!"

"Look, no one's opening anything till Scipio gets here! And what's all this 'me first me first' stuff? What? Are you guys still in grade school?"

Scipio smiled. Hornet was going to make a great mom someday.

"Everyone calm down. I have arrived," Scipio spoke up dramatically as he entered the back courtyard.

"Yes! Prosper, mine first!" Bo exclaimed loudly before Riccio could even think to breathe.

"Alright, alright," Prosper laughed. His voice had grown a bit deeper in these past three years, but now it was at its stopping point. Prosper's voice would forever be sweet as honey. Lucky bastard. Still, Prosper would probably say the same about Scipio. "What took you so long, Scip?"

Prosper looked up at Scipio from his seat in a chair. Scipio smiled. He leaned down and kissed Prosper right on the mouth, setting his gift by Prosper's feet. Riccio and Bo wrinkled their noses.

"Ew! P.D.A.! Gross!" they exclaimed. They did this anytime Scipio and Prosper showed affection to each other, and when Hornet kissed her boyfriend. Scipio grinned when he pulled back.

"I had to check the mail," he replied. "Happy Birthday, Prosper." And then Scipio sat back with the others to give Prosper room to open his gifts.

The first was a gift from Bo – a set of gondolas that Prosper had been admiring for weeks. The second was from Mosca – a new radio. He said it was for Prosper's boat… but Prosper didn't have a boat. That's when Miss Ida spoke up. Her gift to Prosper was right outside the gate. She gestured them all toward it and the tip of a boat could be seen. Prosper ran over to look and nearly fell over at how nice it was. He hugged Ida tightly. Prosper would never see Ida the way he'd seen Signora Massimo, but she was doing a fine job as his mother figure.

The next gift was from Riccio, who was upset at somehow being pushed back to the fourth position in the gift opening order. He got Prosper a book. At first it seemed ordinary, but on the inside were photos of the children that Signora Massimo had taken because her husband thought pictures were irrelevant. Twelve years of photos littered the pages, even some from the three years Scipio and Prosper had been away from the children. Prosper had photos in there that Ida had taken. Scipio had a few his mother had taken before she'd died and a few more from after she died, taken by some friends of Scipio's in America. Prosper hugged Riccio close for that one, and Riccio looked rather pleased with himself for his clever idea.

Then Scipio's was picked up and, before even unwrapping it, Prosper began to laugh. He'd heard it move. Scipio grinned like he wanted to laugh too. When the paper was peeled away, a large pack of oreos sat in Prosper's lap. Riccio whined. He didn't understand. The others either understood or knew that Prosper understood it somehow and didn't ask questions.

The last gift was from Prosper's boss, and Ida's fiancé, Victor Getz. They'd announced their engagement last week, to the cheers of many. Victor got Prosper a 'proper seaman's jacket' and a good fishing pole, as Prosper had discovered he liked to fish – but only for fun and not constantly.

After the gifts, people got caught up in cake and ice cream and chatter. Scipio slipped over to Prosper and found a spot next to him on a bench. While they were given a moment of peace, Scipio slipped Prosper the letter.

"This came today. It's from the orphanage. Any idea what it is?" he asked. Prosper's features adopted a sad smile.

"Yeah. It's my mom's last wish. It's a letter she wrote… and it's also sort of her will. I haven't read it yet, but the sister's had. I told them to mail it to me when I turned 21, because I wasn't ready to read it yet. I'm still kind of nervous. She apparently wrote it directly to me, and I'm a little afraid of what it says," Prosper admitted.

"No matter what it says, you still have us. You still have me. But… if you'd like, I'll read it first," Scipio offered. He gave Prosper a smile that was a mix between loving and 'if you're that big a chicken, just hand it over.'

"Nah. I'll open it myself, but not until tonight," the brunette explained, pocketing the letter. "I don't want to ruin the party if it's bad."

"Or if it's good," Scipio pointed out and kissed Prosper on the nose. Prosper stared in shock and almost fell over. The kiss didn't seem to logically fit into the conversation, and now he was rather confused… but that was Scipio's plan. Distraction!

Prosper seemed to pick up on Scipio's thoughts and began to laugh. Scipio smiled. Prosper should be like this, laughing, on his twenty-first birthday.

"Prosper! Prosper, let's take your boat out for a spin!" someone called. Prosper, still chuckling, stood up.

"Alright. Why not?" he asked hypothetically. He pulled Scipio to his feet. Then they all walked to the gate. When Prosper turned the engine on the roar made Riccio, Mosca, and Bo nearly faint with envy. Scipio already had a boat, and Hornet didn't much care what a boat looked or sounded like so long as it got its job done.

Ida and Victor waved them off. The boat wasn't big enough for them too. So the children who had no relation to each other but had grown up as brothers and sister sped off into the canals and lakes of Venice.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

When Prosper returned to his room that night, he shut the door and locked it. Scipio was sitting on his own bed, across the room from Prosper's. They now shared a room. Hornet was using Prosper's original room. She was a growing girl and wanted her space. She'd had it at the old house, so why not here?

"You're going to read it now?" Scipio asked.

"Yeah. I think I'm ready, or as ready as I'll ever be," Prosper replied. He sat on his bed and pulled out the letter. Scipio just watched.

At first, Scipio wanted to go sit by Prosper, but he decided he should give Prosper some space. Prosper's eyes moved across the page line by line. The silence killed Scipio. A part of him wished Prosper would read it out loud. Prosper seemed to be psychic.

"My dear Prosper," the brunette began, his voice a little bitter. Scipio knew his train of thought. If they'd been so dear to her, why did she leave them? "I know I must be a distant memory for you, and not a very happy one at that. I'm sure you must hate me for leaving you at that orphanage when you were only eight. Still, I can feel my days are ending, and I can't bear leaving this world without telling you the truth."

"You don't have to read out loud if you don't want to," Scipio pointed out. Prosper shook his head.

"Your father was a merchant from America. We met and fell in love. When you were born, we weren't married. When you were two, we got all dolled up, even you, and had a wonderful white wedding by the sea. For a few years, life was beautiful… but then I got pregnant again. Your father didn't want another child. Things went dark. Your father suddenly wanted to move back to America, but he didn't want us to follow him, or… at least not you and your brother. I pleaded with him and he calmed down until after Bo was born and nursed for a month.

"That was the first time I realized something was about to happen. You came to me and asked me what an affair was. You'd heard your dad talking about it to someone on the phone. Then a month later, your father asked for a divorce. He said it was obvious I cared about you more than I cared about him. I tried to convince him to stay, but he wouldn't hear of it. In the divorce, your father took everything we had, everything we owned… and left me with you and Bo."

Prosper stopped and took a deep breath. His fingers were shivering. Scipio moved over to Prosper's bed and sat near him, but not directly beside him. He put a hand on Prosper's knee.

"I didn't mind," Prosper began again. "I was starting to realize I did love you more than the man I conceived you with. We moved in with my brother in Venice. You seemed to adore the figures and the water. I think Bo was too young to care. I told you stories about the myths surrounding the city, and you used to laugh and ask me to tell them to you over and over. It was the happiest time of my life. However, a little after Bo turned five, my brother was forced to leave Venice. We had to move in with my aunt in Hamburg. But she lived in a tiny house barely big enough for herself and had very little money. I was bringing little money in myself. I knew we wouldn't be able to support you or give you what you needed. So I made the hardest… the hardest decision of my life."

"I gave you up," Scipio finished the line for Prosper. He moved his hand to Prosper's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. Prosper took another deep breath.

"I'm writing this now because I'm dying of lung cancer. Your father was a big smoker and the secondhand smoke seems to have left an impression on me. You're twelve this year. Little Bo is turning seven. I wish I could see you once more, but the doctor's say I can't leave and I don't even know how to get this to you. I suspect you won't get this letter for several years to come, but when you do, I hope you understand.

"I loved you and your brother very much. I hope you remember all the times I told you that as a child. I truly loved you both and still do. As my children, I am deciding to leave everything I own to you… specifically to you, Prosper. I know you'll have grown into a fine, smart young man and will have the right mind to decide what Bo should receive. It's not much, but I hope you like it. I'll enclose it in this letter.

"Dear Prosper, as my final wish… I wish that this letter would convey my apologies well, and that you would understand. I wish that when you think of me, it won't be as the horrible woman who left you in an orphanage, but as the wonderful mother I tried to be for as long as I had you. Please remember…. Please remember all the good times – like your first ice cream cone, when you dropped it down your lap… or… or your first gondola ride… You fell in the canal and swore you met a mermaid. So… So when you think of me, please remember me as I was. I love you, now and forever….," Prosper trailed off, his eyes growing too wet to read.

"Mom," Scipio finished.

Even Scipio could tell. The letter was everything Prosper had wanted and more. He didn't even care what the inheritance was. Scipio scooted closer to his partner and Prosper enveloped him in a hug. Scipio held him close and let him cry a little. It wasn't a lot of tears, not like what happened when he learned Vienna was dead, but they were tears nonetheless. They were Prosper's precious tears.

"She loved me," Prosper whispered. Scipio nodded. He hugged Prosper tighter and then pushed them apart.

"I love you," he said as though Prosper had forgotten. Prosper nodded then. He tossed the letter to the side and kissed Scipio. Then he hugged him again, burying his face in Scipio's shoulder.

"I love you too, Scip," he murmured, raising his head to say it into the other's ear. Scipio blushed.

"You want to go to bed now?" he asked softly. Prosper let out one chuckle.

"Sure."

~ The End ~

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**_Attention All Artists_**: If you're an artist and wish to draw pictures (doujin/fancomic included) of this or any other story I've written, you have my permission to do so on the condition that I get credit for the idea and you send it to me (links please, no file attachments).


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